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4 



THE DEPAKTURE. 






A 


YOUNG MACEDONIAN 

IN THE ARMT OF 

ALEXANDER THE GREAT 


BY THE 

REV. ALFRED J. CHURCH, M A. 

Lately Professor of Latin in University College^ London 


G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

NEW YORK LONDON 

27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 

linwherbocker Jrese 


1 






> 


> ^ ) 





The visit of Alexander to Jerusalem is recorded by 
Josephus only. The fact that it is not mentioned 
by Arrian, who had contemporary diaries before 
him, by Quintus Curtius, or by Diodorus Siculus, 
certainly throws some doubt upon it. But it must 
be remembered that Jerusalem was not more 
interesting than any other Syrian town to these 
writers. Bishop Westcott thinks that Josephus’s 
narrative may be true, and I am content to make 
this opinion my defence for introducing the incident 
into my story. 


A. C. 



CONTENTS 


CHAP. FACE 


I. 

A WRONG 


4 4 4 


444 


44 4 


444 

I 

II. 

A REVENGE 

• •• 


• 44 


444 


444 


9 

III. 

PREPARATIONS 




444 


• 44 


444 

24 

IV. 

AT TROY 

• • 4 


4 4 4 


4 4 4 


4 4 4 


40 

V. 

AT THE GRANICUS 


• •4 


• 44 


• 44 


4 4 4 

48 

VI. 

HALICARNASSUS ... 

• • 4 


444 


444 


• •• 

• 

6 o 

VII. 

MEMNON 


4 4 4 


444 


• •4 


444 

73 

VIII. 

AT SEA 

• 44 


4 4 4 


444 


4 4 4 


83 

IX. 

IN GREECE AGAIN 


4 4 4 


... 


4 4 4 


4 4 4 

98 

X. 

AT ATHENS 

• 44 


7 4 4 


4 4 4 


4 4 4 


114 

XI. 

A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


• 44 


444 


4 44 


4 4 4 

122 

XII. 

ON THE WRONG SIDE 

4 4 4 


4 44 


444 


4 44 


137 

XIII. 

DAMASCUS 

4 


4 4 4 


4 4 4 


444 


4 4 4 

150 

XIV, 

MANASSEH THE JEW 

• 44 


444 


4 4 4 


4 44 


162 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

XV. ‘ANDROMACHfe 
XVI. TO JERUSALEM 




••• ••• 


••• ••• ••• ••• 


••• ••• 


XVII. TYRE 
XVIII. THE ESCAPE 
XIX. THE HIGH PRIEST 
XX. FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 

XXI. ARBELA 

XXII. AT BABYLON 

XXIII. A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE ... 


••• 


••• ••• 


PAGE 

173 

180 

... 190 
204 
... 213 

226 


••• ••• 


237 

251 

... 261 


XXIV. VENGEANCE 


XXV. DARIUS 


XXVI. INVALIDED 


... ••• 273 

284 


••• ••• 


XXVII. NEWS FROM THE EAST 


XXVIII. THE END 


••• ••• ••• 


... ••• ••• 


294 


300 


3IS 


A YOUNG MACEDONIAN 


CHAPTER I 

A WRONG 

The Boys* Foot-race ’* at the great games of 
Olympia, celebrated now for the one hundred and 
eleventh time since the epoch of Coroebus, has just 
been run, and the victor is about to receive his crown 
of wild olive. The herald proclaims with a loud 
voice, ‘‘ Charidemus, son of Callicles of Argos, come 
forward, and receive your prize ! ” A lad, who might 
have been thought to number seventeen or eighteen 
summers, so tall and well grown was he, but who 
had really only just completed his fifteenth year, 
stepped forward. His face was less regularly hand- 
some than those of the very finest Greek type, for 
the nose was more arched, the chin more strongly 
marked, and the forehead more square, than a 
sculptor would have made them in moulding a boy 
Apollo ; still the young Charidemus had a singularly 


2 


A WRONG 


winning appearance, especially now that a smile 
shone out of his frank blue eyes and parted lips, lips 
that were neither so full as to be sensual, nor so 
thin as to be cruel. The dark chestnut curls fell 
clustering about his neck, for the Greek boy was 
not cropped in the terrier fashion of his English 
successor, and the ruddy brown of his clear com- 
plexion showed a health nurtured by clean living 
and exercise. A hum of applause greeted the young 
athlete, for he had many friends among the young 
and old of Argos, and he was remarkable for the 
worth that — 

appears with brighter shine 
When lodged within a worthy shrine * 

— a charm which commends itself greatly to the 
multitude. As Charidemus approached the judges 
a lad stepped forward from the throng that sur- 
rounded the tribunal, and exclaimed, I object.” 

All eyes were turned upon the speaker. He was 
immediately recognized as the competitor who had 
won the second place, a good runner, who might have 
hoped for victory in ordinary years, but who had had 
no chance against the extraordinary fleetness of the 
young Argive. He was of a well-set, sturdy figure ; 
his face, without being at all handsome, was suffi- 
ciently pleasing, though just at the moment it had 

“Gratior et pulchro veniens in corpora virtus.” 


A WRONG 3 

a look which might have meant either sullenness 
or shame. 

“ Who is it that speaks ? ” said the presiding judge. 

‘‘ Charondas, son of Megasthenes, of Thebes/* was 
the answer. 

And what is your objection ? ” asked the judge, 

I object to Charidemus, alleged to be of Argos, 
because he is a barbarian.” 

The sensation produced by these words was great, 
even startling. There could scarcely be a greater 
insult than to say to any one who claimed to be a 
Greek that he was a barbarian. Greeks, according 
to a creed that no one thought of questioning, were 
the born rulers and masters of the world, for whom 
everything had been made, and to whom everything 
belonged ; barbarians were inferior creatures, with- 
out human rights, who might be permitted to exist 
if they were content to minister to the well-being of 
their masters, but otherwise were to be dealt with as 
so many noxious beasts. 

An angry flush mounted to the young runner’s 
face. A fierce light flashed from his eyes, lately so 
smiling, and the red lips were set firmly together. 
He had now the look of one who could make 
himself feared as well as loved. His friends were 
loud in their expressions of wrath. With an em- 
phatic gesture of his hand the judge commanded 
silence. ‘‘Justify your words,” he said to the 
Theban lad. 


4 


A WRONG 


For a few moments Charondas stood silent. Then 
he turned to the crowd, as if looking for inspiration 
or help. A man of middle age stepped forward and 
addressed the judge. 

“ Permit me, sir, on behalf of my son, whose 
youth and modesty hinder him from speaking freely 
in your august presence, to make a statement of facts.” 

Speak on,’* said the judge, ‘‘but say nothing that 
you cannot prove. Such charges as that which we 
have just heard may not be lightly brought.” 

“ I allege that Charidemus, said to be of Argos, is 
not in truth the son of Callicles, but is by birth a 
Macedonian.” 

The word “ Macedonian ” produced almost as 
much sensation as had been made by the word 
“ barbarian.” The Macedonians were more than 
suspected of compassing the overthrow of Greek 
liberties. 

“ Where is your proof? ” asked the judge. 

“ There will be proof sufficient if your august 
tribunal will summon Callicles himself to appear 
before it and make confession of what he knows.” 

The judge accordingly commanded that Callicles 
should be called. The summons was immediately 
obeyed. A man who was approaching old age, and 
whose stooping form and shrunken limbs certainly 
showed a striking contrast to the blooming vigour of 
Charidemus, stood before the judges. The president 
spoke. 


A tVRONG 


5 


I adjure you, by the name of Zeus of Olympia, 
that you tell the truth. Is Charidemus indeed your 
son ? ’’ 

The man hesitated a moment. I adopted Chari- 
demus in his infancy.” 

^‘That proves your affection, but not his race,” 
said the judge in a stern voice. ‘*Tell us the truth, 
and prevaricate no more.” 

“ He was the son of my sister.” 

And his father ? ” 

His father was Caranus of Pella.” 

A Macedonian, therefore.” 

‘‘Yes, a Macedonian.” 

“ Why then did you enter him as your son for the 
foot-race ? ” 

“Because I had adopted him with all due for- 
malities, and in the eye of the law he is my 
son.” 

“ But that did not make him a Greek of pure 
descent, such as by the immemorial custom of these 
games he is bound to be.” 

A hum of approval went round the circle of spec- 
tators, whilst angry glances were cast at the Argive 
and his adopted son. Only the sanctity of the spot 
prevented a show of open violence, so hateful had 
the name of Macedonian become. 

Callicles began to gather courage now that the 
secret was out. He addressed the judges again. 

“ You forget, gentlQOien, that in the time of the 


6 


A IVRONG 


war with the Persians Alexander of Macedon was 
permitted to compete in the chariot-race.” 

"‘True,” replied the judge, “but then he showed 
an unbroken descent from the hero Achilles.” 

“Just so,” rejoined Callicles, “ and Caranus was 
of the royal kindred.” 

“ The blood may easily have become mixed during 
the hundred and forty years which have passed 
since the days of Alexander. Besides, that which 
may be accepted as a matter of notoriety in the 
case of a king must be duly proved when a private 
person is concerned. Have you such proof at hand 
in regard to this youth ? ” 

Callicles was obliged to confess that he had not. 
The presiding judge then intimated that he would 
consider the matter with his colleagues, and give 
the decision of the court probably in less than an 
hour. As a matter of fact, the consultation was a 
mere formality. After a few minutes the judges 
reappeared, and the president announced their 
decision. 

“ We pronounce Charidemus to be disqualified as 
having failed to prove that he is of Hellenic descent, 
and adjudge the prize to Charondas the Theban. 
We fine Callicles of Argos five minas ^ for having 
made a false representation.” 

Loud applause, greeted this judgment. Such was 
the feeling in force at that time that any affront 

* About j^2o. 


A WRONG 


7 


that could be offered to a Macedonian was eagerly 
welcomed by a Greek audience. Very likely there 
were some in the crowd who had felt the touch of 
Philip’s ‘‘silver spears.” ^ If so, they were even 
louder than their fellows in their expressions of 
delight. 

It wauld be difficult to describe the feelings of dis- 
may and rage which filled the heart of the young 
Charidemus as he walked away from the tribunal. 
As soon as he found himself alone he broke out into 
a violent expression of them. A curse on these 
cowardly Greeks,” he cried ; “ I am heartily glad that 
I am not one of them. By Zeus, if I could let out 
the half of my blood that comes from them I would. 
They dare not meet us in the field, and they revenge 
themselves for their defeats by insults such as these. 
By Ares, they shall paj' me for it some day; 
especially that clumsy lout, who filches by craft what 
he could not win by speed.” 

If he had seen the way in which the young 
Theban received the prize that had been adjudged 

* Philip, King of Macedonia, who by this time was very nearly 
master of Greece, had, it was said, consulted the Delphic oracle as to 
his plans, and had received from the priestess an answer which may be 
thus Englished : — 

“Craft may be baffled, force may fail, 

The silver spear shall still prevail.” 

To the king himself a witticism of similar import was attributed: “I 
have never found,” he said, “ a citadel impregnable, into which I could 
send an ass laden with silver. ” 


8 


A WRONG 


to him in this unsatisfactory way, he would have 
thought less hardly of him. Charondas had been 
driven into claiming the crown ; but he hated him- 
self for doing it. Gladly would he have refused to 
receive it ; gladly, even — but such an act would have 
been regarded as an unpardonable impiety — would 
he have thrown the chaplet upon the ground. As it 
was, he was compelled to take and wear it, and, 
shortly afterwards, to sit out the banquet given by 
his father in his honour. But he was gloomy and 
dissatisfied, as little like as possible to a successful 
competitor for one of the most coveted distinctions 
in Greek life. As soon as he found himself at liberty 
he hastened to the quarters of Charidemus and his 
father, but found that they were gone. Perhaps it 
was as well that the two should not meet just then. 
It was not long before an occasion arose which 
brought them together. 


CHAPTER II 


A REVENGE 

Four years later Charidemus found the opportunity 
of revenge for which he had longed in the bitterness 
of his disappointment. It was the evening of the 
day which had seen the fall of Thebes. He had 
joined the army, and, though still full young to be 
an officer, had received the command of a company 
from Alexander, who had heard the story of his young 
kinsman, and had been greatly impressed by his 
extraordinary strength and agility. He had fought 
with conspicuous courage in the battle before the 
walls, and in the assault by which the town had been 
carried. When the savage sentence^ which Alexander 
permitted his Greek allies to pass on the captured 
city, had been pronounced, the king called the young 
man to him. ‘‘Thebes,” he said, “is to be destroyed; 

* This sentence was that the city of Thebes should be razed to the 
ground and all its territory distributed among the allies ; that all the 
captive Thebans, with a few exceptions, should be sold as slaves ; that 
all who had escaped might be arrested and put to death wherever they 
might be found. 


10 


A REVENGE 


but there is one house which I should be a barbarian 
indeed if I did not respect, that is the house of 
Pindar the poet. Take this order to Perdiccas. It 
directs him to supply you with a guard of ten men. 
I charge you with the duty of keeping the house of 
Pindar and all its inmates from harm.*’ 

Charidemus saluted, and withdrew. He found no 
great difficulty in performing his duty. The exception 
made by the Macedonian king to the general order 
of destruction was commonly known throughout the 
army, and the most lawless plunderer in it knew that 
it would be as much as his life was worth not to 
respect the king’s command. Accordingly the flag, 
which, with the word “ Sacred ” upon it, floated on 
the roof of the house, was sufficient protection, and 
the guard had nothing to do. 

The young officer’s first care had been to ascertain 
who were the inmates of the house that were to have 
the benefit of the conqueror’s exemption. He found 
that they were an old man, two women of middle 
age who were his daughters, and a bright little boy 
of some six' years, the child of another daughter now 
deceased. He assured them of their safety, and was 
a little surprised to find that even after two or three 
days had passed in absolute security, no one at- 
tempting to enter the house, the women continued 
to show lively signs of apprehension. Every sound 
seemed to make them start and tremble ; and their 
terror seemed to come from some nearer cause than 


A REVENGE 


II 


the thought of the dreadful fate which had overtaken 
their country. 

On the fifth day the secret came out. For some 
reason or other Charidemus was unusually wakeful 
during the night. The weather was hot, more than 
commonly so for the time of year, for it was now 
about the middle of September, and, being unable to 
sleep, he felt that a stroll in the garden would be 
a pleasant way of beguiling the time. It wanted 
still two hours of sunrise, and the moon, which was 
some days past the full, had only just risen. He sat 
down on a bench which had been conveniently placed 
under a drooping plane, and began to meditate on 
the future, a prospect full of interest, since it was 
well known that the young king was preparing for 
war against Persia. His thoughts had begun to 
grow indistinct and unconnected, for the sleep which 
had seemed impossible in the heated bed-chamber 
began to steal over him in the cool of the garden, 
when he was suddenly roused by the sound of a foot- 
step. Himself unseen, for he was entirely sheltered 
from view by the boughs of the plane-tree, he com- 
manded a full view of the garden. It was not a little 
to his surprise that in a figure which moved silently 
and swiftly down one of the side paths he recognized 
the elder of the two daughters of the house. She 
had with her, he could perceive, an elderly woman, 
belonging to the small establishment of slaves, who 
carried a basket on her arm. The lower end of the 


12 


A REVENGE 


garden was bounded by a wall ; beyond this wall the 
ground rose abruptly, forming indeed part of one of 
the lower slopes of the Acropolis. It puzzled him 
entirely when he tried to conjecture whither the 
‘ women were going. That they should have left the 
house at such an hour was a little strange, and there 
was, he knew, no outlet at that end of the garden ; 
for, having, as may be supposed, plenty of time on 
his hands, he had thoroughly explored the whole 
place. Watching the two women as far as the dim 
light permitted, he lost sight of them when they 
reached the laurel hedge which served as an orna- 
mental shelter for the wall. His instincts as a 
gentleman forbade him to follow them ; nor did he 
consider it part of his military duty to do so. Never- 
theless, he could not help feeling a strong curiosity 
when about an hour afterwards the two women re- 
turned. With the quick eye of a born soldier, he 
observed that the basket which the attendant carried 
swung lightly on her arm. It was evident that it 
had been brought there full, and was being carried 
back empty. He watched the two women into the 
house, and then proceeded to investigate the mystery. 
At first sight it seemed insoluble. Everything looked 
absolutely undisturbed. That the women could have 
clambered over the wall was manifestly impossible. 
Yet where could they have been? If, as he supposed, 
the basket had been emptied between their going 
and their returning, what had been done with its 


A REVEmE 


13 


contents ? They were certainly not above ground, 
and they had not been buried — in itself an unlikely 
idea — for the soil was undisturbed. He had walked 
up and down the length of the wall some half-dozen 
times, when he happened to stumble over the stump 
of an old laurel tree which was hidden in the long 
grass. In the effort to save himself from falling he 
struck his hand against the brick wall with some 
smartness, and fancied that a somewhat hollow 
sound was returned. An idea struck him, and he 
wondered that it had not occurred to him before. 
Might there not be some hidden exit in the wall ? 
There was too little light for him to see anything of 
the kind, but touch might reveal what the sight could 
not discover. He felt the surface carefully, and after 
about half-an-hour’s diligent search, his patience was 
rewarded by finding a slight indentation which ran 
perpendicularly from about a foot off the top to the 
same distance from the bottom. Two similar 
horizontal indentations were more easily discovered. 
There was, it was evident, a door in the wall, but it 
had been skilfully concealed by a thin layer of brick- 
work, so that to the eye, and even to the touch, 
unless very carefully used, it suggested no difference 
from the rest of the surface. This discovery made, 
another soon followed, though it was due more to acci- 
dent than to any other cause. The door opened with a 
spring, the place of which was marked by a slight 
hollow in the surface. Charidemus stumbled, so to 


14 


A REVENGE 


speak, upon it, and the door opened to his touch. It 
led into an underground passage about five or six 
yards long, and this passage ended in a chamber 
which was closed by a door of the ordinary kind. 
Opening this, the young soldier found himself in a 
room that was about ten feet square. In the dim 
light of a lamp that hung from the vaulted ceiling, 
he could see a couch occupied by the figure of a 
sleeper, a table on which stood a pitcher and some 
provisions, a chair, and some apparatus for washing. 
So deep were the slumbers of the occupant of the 
room that the entrance of the stranger did not rouse 
him from them, and it was only when Charidemus 
laid his hand upon his shoulder that he woke. His 
first impulse was to stretch out his hand for the 
sword which lay under his pillow; but the young 
Macedonian had been beforehand with him. Un- 
armed himself, for he had not dreamt of any adven- 
ture when his sleeplessness drove him into the garden, 
he had promptly possessed himself of the weapon, 
and was consequently master of the situation. 

The next moment the two men recognized each 
other. The occupant of this mysterious chamber 
was Charondas, the Theban, and Charidemus saw 
the lad who had, as he thought, filched away his 
prize, lying unarmed and helpless before him. 

The young Theban struggled into a sitting posture. 
Charidemus saw at once that his left arm was dis- 
abled. His face, too, was pale and bloodless, his 


A REVEl^GU 15 

eyes dim and sunken, and his whole appearance 
suggestive of weakness and depression. 

‘‘ What are you doing here ? ” he asked, though 
the question was needless ; it was clear that the 
young man had taken part in the recent fighting, and 
was now in hiding. 

I scarcely know ; but I suppose life is sweet 
even to one who has lost everything ; and I am too 
young,” he added with a faint smile, ‘‘ to relish the 
idea of Charon and his ferry-boat.’’ 

Are you of the lineage of Pindar ? ” 

I cannot claim that honour. The husband of 
old Eurytion’s sister, and father of the little Creon, 
whom you have seen doubtless, was my kinsman ; 
but I am not related to the house of Pindar by blood. 
No; I have no more claim to the clemency of 
Alexander than the rest of my countrymen.” 

The young Macedonian stood lost in thought. 
He had often imagined the meeting that would take 
place some day, he was sure, between Charondas and 
himself. But he had never dreamt of it under such 
circumstances as these. He was to encounter 
him on the battle-field and vanquish him, perhaps 
overtake him in the pursuit, and then, perhaps, 
spare his life, perhaps kill him — he had never been 
quite able to make up his mind which it should be. 
But now killing him was out of the question ; the 
man could not defend himself. And yet to give him 
up to death or slavery — how inexpressibly mean it 
seemed to him ! / 


i6 


A REVENGE 


‘‘ I have no right,” said the young Theban, ‘‘ to 
ask a favour of you. I wronged you once ” 

^‘Stop,” interrupted Charidemus, “how came you 
to think of doing such a thing ? It was shameful to 
win the prize in such a way.” 

It is true,” said the other ; but it was not ol 
my own will that I came forward to object. Another 
urged me to it, and he is dead. You know that our 
cities give a handsome reward in money to those 
who win these prizes at the games ; and we were 
very poor. But I could have trampled the crown in 
the dust, so hateful was it to win by craft what you 
had won by speed.” 

“ Well, well,” said Charidemus, who now had 
greater prizes than Olympia could give before his 
eyes, “ it was no such great matter after all ; ” and 
he held out his hand to the wounded lad. 

“ Ah ! ” said the other, “ I have no right to ask 
you favours. Yet one thing I may venture on. 
Kill me here. I could not bear to be a slave. Those 
poor women, who have risked their lives to save me, 
will be sorry when they hear of it, and little Creon 
will cry ; but a child’s tears are soon dried. But a 
slave — that would be too dreadful. I remember a 
poor Phocian my father had — sold to him after the 
taking of Crissa, of which, I suppose, you have 
heard — as well bred a man as any of us, and better 
educated, for we Thebans, in spite of our Pindar, are 
not very clever. What a life he led 1 I would die a 


A REVENGE 


17 


hundred times over sooner than bear it for a day 1 
No, kill me, I beseech you. So may the gods above 
and below be good to you when your need comes ! 
Have you ever killed a man ? ” he went on. Hardly, 
I suppose, in cold blood. Well, then, I will show 
you where to strike.” And he pointed to a place on 
his breast, from which, at the same time, he withdrew 
his tunic. ‘‘ My old trainer,” he went on, ‘‘ taught 
me that. Or, if you would sooner have it so, give 
me the sword, and I dare say that I can make shift 
to deal as straight a blow as will suffice.” 

The young Macedonian's heart was fairly touched. 
“ Nay,” he said, after a brief time given to thought, 
‘‘ I know something that will be better than that. If 
it fail, I will do what you will. Meanwhile here is 
your sword ; but swear by Zeus and Dionysus, who 
is, I think, your special god at Thebes, that you will 
not lift it against yourself, till I give you leave. And 
now, for three or four hours, farewell.” 

That morning, as Alexander was sitting with his 
intimate friend Hephaestion, at a frugal meal of 
barley cakes and fruit, washed down with wine that 
had been diluted, sweetened, and warmed, the guard 
who kept the door of the chamber, a huge Illyrian, 
who must have measured nearly seven feet in height, 
announced that a young man, who gave the name of 
Charidemus, craved a few minutes’ speech with the 
king. 

A more splendid specimen of humanity than the 


18 


A REVENGE 


Macedonian monarch has seldom, perhaps never, 
been seen. In stature he did not much surpass the 
middle height, but his limbs were admirably propor- 
tioned, the very ideal of manly strength and beauty. 
His face, with well-cut features and brilliantly clear 
complexion, showed such a model as a sculptor would 
choose for hero or demigod. In fact, he seemed a 
very Achilles, born again in the later days, the 
handsomest of men,^ the strongest, the swiftest of foot. 

Ah ! ** said the king, that is our young friend 
to whom I gave the charge of Pindar’s house. I 
hope no harm has happened to it or him. To tell 
you the truth, this Theban affair has been a bad 
business. I would give a thousand talents that it 
had not happened. Show him in,” he cried out, 
turning to the Illyrian. 

“ Hail, sire,” said Charidemus, saluting. 

‘‘ Is all well ? ” 

All is well, sire. No one has offered to harm the 
house or its inmates. But, if you will please to hear 
me, I have a favour to ask.” 

‘‘ What is it ? Speak on.” 

“ I beg the life of a friend.” 

‘‘The life of a friend! What friend of yours can 
be in danger of his life ? ” 

* Homer insists on the beauty of Achilles. 

“ Nireus from Syma brought three balanced ships, 

Nireus, the fairest man that came to Troy 
Of all the Greeks, save Peleus* blameless sonP 


A REVENGE 


19 


Charidemus told his story. Alexander listened 
with attention, and certainly without displeasure. 
He had already, as has been seen, begun to feel 
some repentance and even shame for the fate of 
Thebes, and he was not sorry to show clemency in 
a particular case. 

“What,” he cried, when he heard the name of the 
lad for whom Charidemus was making intercession. 
“ What ? was it not Charondas of Thebes who 
filched from you the crown at Olympia ? And you 
have forgiven him ? What did the wise Aristotle,” 
he went on, turning to Hephaestion, “ say about 
forgiveness ? ” 

“ Sire,” said Hephaestion, “ you doubtless know 
better than I. You profited by his teaching far more 
than I — so the philosopher has told me a thousand 
times.” 

“Well,” rejoined the king, “ as far as I remember, 
he always seemed a little doubtful. To forgive 
showed, he thought, a certain weakness of will ; yet 
it might be profitable, for it was an exercise of self- 
restraint. Was it not so, my friend ? ” 

“Just so,” said Hephaestion. “And did not the 
wise man say that if one were ever in doubt which 
to choose of two things, one should take the less 
pleasant. I don’t know that I have ever had any 
experiences of forgiveness, but I certainly know the 
pleasure of revenge.” 

^‘Admirably said,” cried the king. 


“ Your re- 


20 


A REVENGE 


quest is granted,” he went on, speaking to Chari- 
demus. ‘‘ But what will you do with your friend ? ” 
He shall follow you, sire, when you go to con- 
quer the great enemy of Hellas.” 

So be it. Mind that I never repent this day’s 
clemency. And now farewell ! ” 

The young man again saluted, and withdrew. 

But when he unfolded his plan to the Theban, he 
found an obstacle which he might indeed have fore- 
seen, but on which, nevertheless, he had not reckoned. 
Charondas was profoundly grateful to his deliverer, 
and deeply touched by his generosity. But to follow 
the man who had laid his country in the dust — that 
seemed impossible. 

‘‘ What ! ” he cried, take service with the son of 
Philip, the hereditary enemy of Hellas ! ” 

Listen 1 ” said Charidemus ; there is but one 
hereditary perpetual enemy of Hellas, and that is 
the Persian. Since the days of Darius, the Great 
King has never ceased to scheme against her liberty. 
Do you know the story of the wrongs that these 
Persians, the most insolent and cruel of barbarians, 
have done to the children of Hellas ? ” 

Something of it,” replied Charondas ; but in 
Thebes we are not great readers ; and besides, that 
is a part of history which we commonly pass over.” 

Well, it is a story of nearly two hundred years 
of wrong. Since Salamis and Plataea, indeed, the 
claws of the Persian have been clipped ; but before 


A REVENGE 


21 


that — it makes my blood boil to think of the things 
that they did to freeborn men. You know they 
passed through Macedonia, and left it a wilder- 
ness. There are traditions in my family of their 
misdeeds and cruelties which make me fairly grind 
my teeth with rage. And then the way in which 
they treated the islands ! Swept them as men sweep 
fish out of a pond ! Their soldiers would join hand 
to hand, and drag the place, as if they were dragging 
with a net.” 

They suffered for it afterwards,” said Charondas. 

Yes, they suffered for it, but not in their own 
country. Twice they have invaded Hellas itself ; 
and they hold in slavery some of the sons of Hellas 
to this day. But they have never had any proper 
punishment.” 

But what do you think would be proper punish- 
ment ? ” asked the Theban. 

‘‘ That Hellas should conquer Persia, as Persia 
dreamt of conquering Hellas.” 

But the work is too vast.” 

Not so. Did you never hear how ten thousand 
men marched from the ^Egean to the Euxine with- 
out meeting an enemy who could stand against 
them ? And these were mere mercenaries, who 
thought of nothing but their pay. Yes, Persia 
ought to have been conquered long ago, if your 
cities had only been united ; but you were too 
busy quarrelling — first Sparta against Athens, and 


22 


A REVENGE 


then Thebes against Sparta, and Corinth and Argos 
and the rest of them backing first one side, and then 
the other.” 

‘‘ It is too true.” 

And then, when there seemed to be a chance of 
something being done, luck came in and helped the 
Persians. Alexander of Pherae had laid his plans 
for a great expedition against the King, and just at 
the moment when they were complete, the dagger 
of an assassin — hired, some said, with Persian 
gold — struck him down. Then Philip took up the 
scheme, and worked it out with infinite patience 
and skill; and lo ! the knife again! Well, ‘all 
these things lie upon the knees of the gods.’ 
Alexander of Pherae was certainly not strong 
enough for the work, nor, perhaps, Philip him- 
self. And besides, Philip had spent the best years 
of life in preparing for it, and was scarcely young 
enough. But now the time has come and the man. 
You must see our glorious Alexander, best of 
soldiers, best of generals. Before a year is over, 
he will be well on his way to the Persians* capital. 
Come with me, and help him to do the work for 
which Hellas has been waiting so long. Your true 
country is not here, among these petty states worn 
out with incessant strifes, but in the new empire 
which this darling of the gods will establish in the 
East.** 

Well,** said the Theban, with a melancholy 


A REVENGE 


23 


smile, anyhow my country is not any longer here. 
And what you tell me seems true enough. To you, 
my friend, I can refuse nothing. The life which 
you have saved is yours. I will follow you wherever 
you go, and, perhaps, some day you will teach me 
to love even this Alexander. At present, you must 
allow, I have scarcely cause.” 

Thus began a friendship which was only to be 
dissolved by death. 


CHAPTER III 


PREPARATIONS 

About six months have passed since the events 
recorded in my last chapter. Charidemus had 
reported to Alexander so much of the young 
Theban’s answer as it seemed to him expedient 
to communicate ; and the king had been pleased 
to receive it very graciously. “ I am glad,” he 
said, that you will have a friend in your cam- 
paigns. I should like to have such friendships all 
through my army. Two men watching over each 
other, helping each other, are worth more than 
double two who fight each for his own hand. You 
shall be a captain in the Guards.^ I can’t give your 

* A complete description of the organization of the Macedonian 
army would be out of place in a book of this kind. Any reader who 
may be anxious to make himself acquainted with the subject will find it 
treated with much fulness in Grote’s “ History of Greece” (vol. xii. pp. 
7S~^9)' For my purposes a brief outline will suffice. The Macedonian 
infantry consisted (i) of the Pezetaeri, or Foot Companions, who made 
up the phalanx, of which I shall have occasion to say something here- 
after ; ( 2 ) the Hypaspistse, i.e,, “ shield -bearers,” originally a body- 
guard for the person of the king, but afterwards, as has been in the 


PREPARATIONS 


25 


friend the same rank. It would give great offence. 
My Macedonians would be terribly annoyed to see a 
young untried Greek put over them. He must make 
his way. I promise you that as soon as my men see 
that he is fit to lead, they will be perfectly willing to 
be led by him. Meanwhile let him join your com- 
pany as a volunteer. He can thus be with you. 
And I will give orders that he shall draw the same 
pay and rations as you do. And now that is settled,” 
the king went on, ‘‘ I shall want you with me for a 
little time. Your friend shall go to Pella, and learn 
his drill, and make himself useful.” 

This accordingly had been done. Charondas had 
spent the winter in Pella. In this place (which 
Alexander’s father had made the capital of his king- 
dom) the army was gathering for the great expedi- 
tion. A gayer or more bustling scene could not well 
be imagined, or, except the vast array which Xerxes 
had swept all Asia to bring against Greece a century 
and a half before, a stranger collection of speci- 
mens of humanity. Savage mountaineers from the 
Thracian Highlands, and fishermen from the primi- 
tive lake-villages of Paeonia, jostled in the streets 
with representatives of almost every city of Greece, 

case of many modern armies, our own included, enlarged into a con- 
siderable force of light infantry ; (3) irregular troops, javelin -throwers, 
archers, &c. A select corps of actual body-guards was chosen out of 
the Hypaspistae, The horse was divided into (i) heavy cavalry, armed 
with a xyston or thrusting pike ; (2) light cavalry, who carried a lighter 
weapon. These may be called Lancers, 


26 


PREPARATIONS 


the Lesser Greece which was the home of the race, 
and the Greater Greece which had spread its borders 
over the shores of the Mediterranean and the Black 
Sea, which had almost touched with its outposts the 
Caspian on the east and the Pillars of Hercules on 
the west. The prospect of a booty such as passed 
all the dreams of avarice, the hope of ransacking the 
treasuries into which all Asia had poured its wealth 
for generations, had drawn adventurers from all 
points of the compass. The only difficulty that the 
recruiting officers had was in choosing. The king 
was determined that the strength of his army should 
be his own Macedonians. A sturdy race, untouched 
by the luxury which had corrupted the vigour of 
more civilized Greece, they supplied a material of 
the most solid value. Nor was it now the rough, 
untempered metal that it had been a generation 
before. Philip had wrought it by years of patient 
care into a most serviceable weapon, and it only 
remained for his son to give its final polish and to 
wield it. 

So complete was the organization left behind him 
by the great king, that such recruits as were needed 
to make up the necessary numbers of the army of 
Asia — and none but tried soldiers were recruited — 
easily fell into their proper places. The preparation 
of siege trains, of such machines as battering-rams 
and the like, of the artillery of the time, catapults, 
small and great, some used for throwing darts and 


PREPARATIONS 


27 


some for hurling stones, was a more laborious busi- 
ness. The equipment of the army was far from 
complete. Every anvil in Macedonia was hard at 
work. Of provisions no great store was prepared. 
The king counted for supplying his needs in this 
direction in the country which he was about to 
overrun. The military chest was empty, or worse 
than empty ; for Philip, who always preferred the 
spear of silver to the spear of steel, had left little 
but debt behind him. The personal baggage of the 
army was on the most moderate scale. Never was 
there a force which gave a better promise of being 
able to “march anywhere,” and more amply ful- 
filled it. 

Charondas, as it may easily be imagined, did not 
find the time hang heavily on his hands. His drill 
was easily learnt ; he had served in the Theban 
infantry, the best in the world till it was dispos- 
sessed of its pride of place by the admirable force 
created by the military genius of Philip. But after 
this there was no lack of employment. Being a 
clever young fellow, who quite belied the common 
character of his countrymen for stupidity, and as 
modest as he was clever, he soon became a great 
favourite, and found himself set to any employment 
that required a little more tact and management 
than usual. When business permitted, there was 
always amusement in plenty. The lakes and 
marshes round Pella swarmed with wild geese and 


28 


PREPARATIONS 


swans ; and there were woods which might always 
be reckoned upon as holding a wild boar, and in 
which a bear might sometimes be found. 

Such had been the employment of the last six 
months. 

When I take up again the thread of my story the 
two friends had met at Sestos,^ from which place 
the army was preparing to cross into the Troad. 
They had much to tell each other. Charidemus, 
who had joined the army only the night before, 
was anxious to learn many military details which 
Charondas had had the opportunity of acquainting 
himself with. His own story was interesting, for 
he had been with Alexander and had also had a 
mission of his own, and had some notable experi- 
ences to relate. This is an outline of his narrative : 

After we parted, I went with the king to Megara. 
Hephaestion was urgent with him to go to Athens ; 
but he refused. He would give no reasons ; in fact, 
I never saw him so abrupt and positive ; but I think 
that I know the cause. It is certain that there 
would have been trouble, if he had gone. The 
Athenians are the freest-spoken people in the world, 
and the king felt, I am sure, that it would be more 
than he could do to command himself, if he should 
hear himself, and still more hear his father, in- 
sulted. And besides, he had something very unplea- 
sant to say, the sort of thing which any one would 

* On the Hellespont, the nearest point of Europe to Asia. 


PREPARATIONS 


29 


sooner say by another man’s mouth than by his 
own. He was going to demand that the ten men 
who had been his worst enemies among the states- 
men and soldiers of Athens should be given up to 
him. I was at table with him when the envoys 
from the city came back with their answer. He 
had them brought into the room where we were. 
No one could have been more polite than was the 
king. * Be seated, gentlemen,’ he said ; and he 
ordered the pages to carry round cups of wine. 
Then he poured a libation from his own goblet. 
* To Athene,’ he cried, ‘ Athene the Counsellor, 
Athen6 the Champion,’ and took a deep draught 
at each title. The envoys stood up, and followed 
his example. *And now, gentlemen, to business,’ 
he went on. *You have brought the prisoners, of 
course. I mean no harm to them ; but I don’t 
care to have them plotting against me while I am 
away.’ ‘ My lord,’ said the chief of the embassy — 
and I could see him tremble as he spoke, though his 
bearing was brave enough — ‘my lord, the Athenian 
people, having met in a lawful assembly, and duly 
deliberated on this matter, has resolved that it 
cannot consent to your demand. The ten citizens 
whom you named in your letter have not been con- 
victed of any crime ; and it would not be lawful to 
arrest them.’ I saw the king’s face flush when he 
heard this answer ; and he half started up from his 
seat. But he mastered himself by a great effort. 


30 


PREPARATIONS 


* Is that SO ? ’ he said in a low voice ; ‘ then I shall 
have to come and take them. You hear that, 
gentlemen ? Tell those who sent you what they 
must look for.* And he took up the talk with us 
just at the point at which it had been broken off 
when the envoys were announced. But he was 
not as calm as he looked. One of his pages told 
me that he did not lie down to sleep till it wanted 
only two hours of dawn. All night the lad heard 
the king pacing up and down in his chamber. The 
wall of partition was very thin, and he could not 
help hearing much that he said. ‘A set of scribblers 
and word-splitters, to dare to set themselves up 
against me ! I’ll fetch the villains, if I have to 
go for them myself ; and if I go, it will be the 
worse for all of them ! ’ Then his mood changed. 
‘I can’t have another business like the last! Thebes 
was bad enough, but Athens — no it is impossible. 
Even the Spartans would not put out the eye of 
Greece ” ; ^ and I must not be more brutal than a 
Spartan. And then to make another enemy among 
the Immortals 1 It is not to be thought of. The 
wrath of Bacchus is bad enough ; and I have sinned 
against him beyond all pardon. But the wrath of 
Athen6 1 — that would be a curse indeed ; for it 
would be the ruin both of valour and counsel.* So 

* When Lysander the Spartan was urged to destroy Athens, then at 
his mercy, he replied that he could not “put out one of the eyes of 
Greece ! ” 


PREPARATIONS 


31 


he went on talking to himself till the best part of 
the night was spent. Well, two days afterwards 
there came another embassy from Athens. This 
time they had a man of sense with them, one who 
knew how to make the best of things, and who, 
besides, was a special favourite of the king. This 
was Phocion, who, as I daresay you know, had the 
sense to accept the inevitable, and counselled peace 
with us, when the so-called patriots were raving for 
war. The king was as gracious as possible to him. 
‘ Ah ! my dear friend,’ he cried, as soon as he saw 
him, * I am indeed glad to see you. Now I know 
that I have an intelligent person to deal with, and I 
am quite sure that we shall have no difficulty in 
settling matters on a satisfactory footing. Well, 
what have you got to tell me ? What proposition 
do you make ? You may be sure that I will accept 
anything in reason.’ * Sir,’ said Phocion — a singu- 
larly venerable-looking man, by the way — ‘the 
Athenians beg you not to take it ill if they are 
unwilling to break their laws even to win your 
favour ; at the same time they are ready to do 
anything to satisfy you ! ’ ‘ Ah ! I see,’ said the 

king; ‘anything but what I want. But hearken: 
I have thought the matter over, and have come to 
this conclusion : I won’t ask your people to give 
anybody up. It is a thing that has an evil look; 
and, upon my word, I think the better of them for 
refusing. At the same time, I can’t have my enemies 


3 ^ 


Preparations 


plotting against me when my back is turned. You 
may keep your speakers, and they may talk against 
me as much as they please. They did not hurt my 
father much, and I do not suppose that they will 
hurt me. But as to the soldiers, that is another 
matter. They must go. I don’t want to have 
them myself ; but they must not stop at Athens. 
If you can promise so much for those who sent 
you, then I shall be satisfied.’ ‘ You are as 
moderate,’ said Phocion, ‘ as I always expected 
you would be. I can promise what you demand. 
Indeed, the two soldiers are gone already.’ ^ ‘ That 

is well,’ said the king. ‘ Perhaps it is all that I 
ought to have asked for at the first. Yes ; tell your 
countrymen that I honour them for their courage, 
and that I don’t forget what they have done for 
Greece. If it had not been for them we should be 
slaves beneath the heel of . the Persian this day. 
And tell them that if anything happens to me, it 
is they who are to take my place, and be the leaders 
of Greece. They were so once, and it may be the 
pleasure of the gods that they should be so again.’ ” 
‘‘ Ah ! ” interrupted Charondas, smiling, your 
king knows how to use his tongue as well as he 
knows how to use his sword. That will flatter the 
Athenians to the top of their bent. After that 

* The names of the two were Charidemus and Ephialtes. Ephialtes 
was killed at the siege of Halicarnassus. Of Charidemus we shall hear 
again. 


PREPARATION^ 


33 


they are Alexander’s firm friends for ever. But to 
take his place — what an idea ! If they only knew 
it, it was the cruellest satire. They have orators, 
I allow. I heard two of them when I was a 
boy. I thought that nothing could beat the first — 
iEschines, I think they called him — till the second 
got up. Good gods ! that man could have persuaded 
me of anything. Demosthenes, they told me, was 
his name. But as for a general, they haven’t such a 
thing, except it be this same Phocion, and he must 
be close upon seventy.^ They have no soldiers even, 
except such as they hire. They used to be able to 
fight, though they were never a match for us. You 
shrug your shoulders, I see, but it is a fact ; but 
now they can do nothing but quarrel. But I am 
interrupting you. Go on.” 

*‘Well,” continued Charidemus, ‘'from Megara 
we went on to Corinth. There the king held a 
great reception of envoys from all the states. I 
acted, you must know, as one of his secretaries, 
and had to listen to the eloquence of all these 
gentlemen. How they prevaricated, and lied, and 
flattered ! and the king listening all the while 
with a gentle smile, as if he were taking it all in, 
but now and then throwing in a word or putting 
a question that struck them dumb. These were 
the public audiences. And then there were the 

* As a matter of fact Phocion was born in 401, and was therefore 
sixty-seven years old. 


34 


PREPARATIONS 


private interviews, when the envoys came one by 
one to see what they could get for themselves. 
What a set of greedy, cringing beggars they were, 
to be sure. Some put a better face on it than 
others ; but it was the same with all — gold ; gold, 
or office, which of course, means gold sooner or 
later. I used to want to be thought a Greek, but 
I never ” 

He stopped abruptly, for he had forgotten to 
whom he was talking. Charondas smiled. ‘‘ Speak 
your mind,” he said, you will not offend me.” 

‘‘Well,” continued the Macedonian, “there was 
at least one man at Corinth whom I could honestly 
admire. I had gone with the king and Hephaestion 
to dine with a rich Corinthian. What a splendid 
banquet it was ! The king has no gold and silver 
plate to match what Xeniades — for that was our 
host’s name — produced. The conversation happened 
to turn on the sights of Corinth, and Xeniades said 
that, after all, there was not one of them could 
match what he had to show. ‘ Can we see it ? ’ 
asked Alexander. ‘ Not to-day, I am afraid, ‘ said 
our host, ‘ but come to-morrow about noon, and I 
can promise you a good view.’ Accordingly the 
next day we went. Xeniades took us into the open 
court inside his house, and showed us a curious little 
figure of a man asleep in the sunshine. ‘ That,’ said 
he, ‘is the one man I know, or ever have known, 
who never wanted anything more than what he had 


PREPARATIONS 


33 


Let me tell you how I came to know him. About 
thirty years ago I was travelling in Crete, and 
happened to stroll into the slave-market at Gnossus. 
There was a lot of prisoners on sale who had been 
taken by pirates out of an Athenian ship. Every 
man had a little paper hanging round his neck, on 
which were written his age, height, and accomplish- 
ments. There were cooks, tailors, tent-makers, 
cobblers, and half-a-dozen other trades, one poor 
wretch who called himself a sculptor, the raggedest 
of the lot, and another, who looked deplorably ill, 
by the way, who called himself a physician. They 
were poor creatures, all of them. Indeed, the only 
one that struck my fancy was a man of about fifty — 
too old, of course, in a general way, for a slave that 
one is going to buy. He certainly was not strong 
or handsome, but he looked clever. I noticed that 
no occupation was mentioned in his description ; 
so I asked him what he could do. I can rule 
men,” he said. That seemed such a whimsical 
answer, for certainly such a thing was never said in 
the slave-market before, that I could do nothing 
less than buy the man. ‘‘ You are just what I have 
been wanting,” I said. Well, to make a long story 
short, I brought him home and made him tutor to 
my children, for I found that he was a learned man. 
He did his work admirably. But of late he has 
grown very odd. He might have any room in my 
house, but you see the place in which he prefers to 


36 


PREPARATIONS 


live/ and he pointed to a huge earthenware vat that 
had been rolled up against the side of the house. 
‘ But let us go and hear what he has to say.’ Well, 
we went, and our coming woke the old man. He 
was a curious, withered, bent creature, nearly eighty 
years old, our host said, with matted white hair, 
eyes as keen as a hawk’s, and the queerest wrinkles 
round his mouth. ‘ Who are you ? ’ he said. * I am 
Alexander, King of Macedonia,’ said the king. M 
am Diogenes the Cynic,’ said the old man. * Is 
there anything that I can do for you,’ asked the 
king. ^ Yes ; you can stand out of the sunshine.’ So 
the king stood aside, whereupon the old man curled 
himself up and went to sleep again. ‘ Well,’ said 
the king, ^ if I were not Alexander, I would gladly 
be Diogenes.’ ‘ You may well say so, my lord,’ said 
Xeniades ; ‘ that strange old creature has been a 
good genius in my house.’ ” 

‘‘ And what became of you after the king came 
back to Pella ? ” asked Charondas. 

‘‘ I stayed behind to do some business which he 
put into my hands. Most of the time I spent in 
Argos, where I was brought up, and where I have 
many friends, but I paid visits to every town of 
importance in the Peloponnesus. I may say so 
much without breaking any confidence, that it was 
my business to commend the Macedonian alliance 
to any people of note that I might come into con- 
tact with. I was very well received everywhere 



ALEXANDER AND DIOGENES, 



PREPARATIONS 


37 


except in Sparta. The Spartans were as sulky as 
possible ; in fact, I was told to leave the city within 
a day.” 

At this point the conversation of the two friends 
was interrupted by the entrance of one of Alexan- 
der’s pages. The lad — he was about sixteen years 
of age,^ — saluted, and said ‘‘a message from the king.” 
The two friends rose from their seats and stood at 
attention” to receive the communication. ‘‘The king 
commands your attendance to-morrow at sunrise, 
when he goes to Troy.” His errand done, the lad 
relaxed the extreme dignity of his manner, and greeted 
the two young men in a very friendly way. “ Have 
you heard the news,” he asked, “ that has set all the 
world wondering? The statue of Orpheus that 
stands in Pieria has taken to sweating incessantly. 
The priest thought it important enough to send a 
special messenger announcing the prodigy. Some 
of the old generals were very much troubled at the 

* He was one of the “Royal Youths.” Q. Curtius gives this descrip- 
tion of this corps : “It was the custom among the Macedonian 
nobles to hand over their grown-up sons to the king, for the perform- 
ance of functions which differed but little from domestic service. They 
took it in turns to pass the night close to the door of the house in 
which the king slept. They received the king’s horses from the 
grooms, and brought them to him when he was ready to mount. They 
accompanied him when he hunted, and they stood close to him in 
battle. In return, they were carefully instructed in all the branches 
of a liberal education. They had the especial distinction of sitting 
down to meals with the king. No one but the king himself was 
allowed to inflict corporal punishment upon them. This company was 
the Macedonian training-ground for generals and officers.” 


38 


PREPARATIONS 


affair,” went on the young man, who was by way 
of being an esprit forty ‘‘ but luckily the soothsayer ^ 
was equal to the occasion, ‘ Let no one be troubled,' 
he said, ‘it is an omen of the very best. Much 
labour is in store for the poets, who will have to 
celebrate the labours of our king." 

“ Well," said Charidemus,who was a well-educated 
young man, and had a certain taste in verse, “ our 
friend Choerilus,^ with all that I have seen of him 
and his works, will have to sweat very hard before 
he can produce a decent verse." 

“ Very true,” said the page, “ but why Orpheus 
should trouble himself about such a fool as Chcerilus 
passes my comprehension. Now, if you want a 
really good omen, my dear Charidemus, you have 
one in the king's sending for you. That means 
good luck if anything does. There are very few 
going. Perdiccas, Hephaestion, half-a-dozen of us 
pages (of whom I have not the luck to be one), 
the soothsayer, of course, with the priests and 

* This soothsayer was Aristander, who was attached to the retinue of 
the king, and accompanied him in all his campaigns. 

® Chcerilus was a notoriously bad poet, to whom Alexander com- 
mitted the task of celebrating his achievements, a curious contradiction, 
Horace thinks, to the discrimination which he showed in forbidding 
any one to paint his portrait except Apelles, or to make a statue of him 
except Lysippus. The joke about Chcerilus was that, having agreed 
to receive a gold piece for every good verse and a stripe for every bad 
one, the balance against him was so heavy that he was beaten to 
death. 


PREPARATIONS 39 

attendants, and a small escort make up the com- 
pany.” 

‘‘ And where is he going ? ” asked the two friends 
together. 

To the ruins of Troy. And now farewell.” 


CHAPTER IV 


AT TROY 

Early as it was when our hero passed through the 
camp on his way to the point from which the king’s 
galley was to start, everything was in a great bustle 
of preparation. More than a hundred and fifty 
vessels of war and a huge array of trading ships of 
every kind and size were standing as near the shore 
as their draught would permit, ready to receive the 
army and to transport it to the Asiatic shore. The 
munitions of war and the artillery had been already 
embarked, relays of men having been engaged on this 
part of the work for some days past. The pier was 
crowded with horses and their attendants, this being 
the only spot from which the animals could be con- 
veniently put on ship-board. Alexander, however, 
contemplated mounting some part of his cavalry with 
chargers to be purchased on the soil of Asia, and, 
with that extraordinary faculty for organization and 
management that was as marked in him as was his 
personal courage, had provided that there should be 
no delay in procuring a proper supply. The soldiers 


AT TROY 41 

themselves were not to go on board till everything 
else had been arranged. 

The king’s galley, which was the admiral’s own 
ship, presented a striking appearance. At the stern 
stood Alexander, a splendid figure, tall and stately, 
and clad in gilded armour. The pages, wearing 
purple tunics with short cloaks richly embroidered 
with gold thread, were clustered about him on the 
after deck, while, close at hand, conspicuous in their 
sacrificial white garments, stood the priest and his 
attendants. All the crew wore holiday attire, and 
every part of the vessel was crowned with garlands. 

At a signal from the king the galley pushed off 
from the shore; the fugleman struck up a lively 
strain of martial Dorian music ; the rowers, oarsmen 
picked for strength and endurance from the whole 
fleet, struck the water with their oars in faultless 
time, while Alexander himself held the rudder. At 
first he steered along the shore, for he was bound for 
the southern extremity of the peninsula, on which 
stood the chapel of Protesilaiis,^ the hero who, 
whether from self-sacrifice or ill-luck, had expiated 
by his death the doom pronounced on his people. 
Reaching the place he went ashore, followed by his 
companions and attendants, and, after duly perform- 


* The oracle had declared that the first of the Greeks who should 
leap on shore in the expedition against Troy would be slain. Protesilaiis, 
a Thessalian prince, unhesitatingly took the doom upon himself, leapt 
from his ship and was slain by Hector, 


42 


AT TROY 


ing sacrifice to the hero, returned to his ship. The 
prow was then turned straight to the opposite coast. 
In mid-channel the music of the fugleman’s flute 
ceased, and the rowers rested on their oars. Leaving 
the rudder in the charge of Hephaestion, the king 
advanced to sacrifice the milk-white bull, which, with 
richly gilded horns and garlands of flowers hanging 
about its neck, stood ready for the rite. He plucked 
some hair from between the horns, and duly burned 
them on the coals of a brasier, and then sprinkled 
some salted meal and poured a few drops of wine on 
the animal’s forehead. The attendants meanwhile 
plunged knives into its throat, and caught the stream- 
ing blood in broad shallow dishes.^ The entrails 
were then duly examined by the soothsayer, who, 
after an apparently scrupulous investigation, declared 
that they presented a singularly favourable appear- 
ance. This done, the king took a golden cup from 
the hand of an attendant, and after filling it with 
the choicest Chian wine, poured out libations to 
Poseidon, the sea-god, and to the sisterhood of the 
nymphs, imploring that they would continue to him 
and to his companions the favour which they had 
shown to the Greek heroes of old times. His prayer 
ended, he flung the goblet, as that which should 

* The animal was probably stupefied with drugs. Otherwise it is 
difficult to account for its standing still. It was considered a most dis- 
astrous omen when an ox attempted to escape, and the occurrence was 
probably rare. It must have happened very frequently unless som» 
such means had been used to prevent it. 


AT TROY 


43 


never be profaned any meaner function, into the 
stream of the Hellespont. 

These ceremonies ended, a very brief space of time 
sufficed to bring the galley to the Harbour of the 
Achaeans,’’ the very spot which tradition asserted to 
have been the landing-place of the host of Agamem- 
non. The king was the first to leap ashore. For a 
moment he stood with his spear poised, as if await- 
ing an enemy who might dispute his landing ; then, 
no one appearing, stuck the weapon in the ground, 
and implored the favour of Zeus and the whole com- 
pany of the dwellers in Olympus on the undertaking 
of which that day’s work was the beginning. Then 
followed a number of remarkable acts. They were 
partly, one cannot doubt, intended for effect, the per- 
formances of a man who desired above all things to 
pose as the representative of Greek feeling, to show 
himself to the world as the successor of the heroes 
who had championed Greece against the lawless 
insolence of Asia. But they w^ere also in a great 
degree the expression of a genuine feeling. Alexander 
had a romantic love for the whole cycle of Homeric 
song and Homeric legend. A copy of the Iliad was 
the companion of all his campaigns ; he even slept 
with it under his pillow. It was his proudest boast 
that he was descended from Achilles; and now he was 
actually performing in person the drama which had 
been the romance of his life. His first visit was to 
the temple of Athene that crowned the hill, identified 


44 


AT TROY 


at least by the inhabitants of the placed with the 
Pergama of ancient Troy. The walls of the temple 
were adorned with suits of armour, worn, it was said 
by the guardians of the place, by heroes who had 
fought against Troy. The king had several of these 
taken down, not intending to wear them himself, but 
meaning to have them carried with him during his 
campaigns, a purpose which was afterwards fulfilled. 
He left instead his own gilded armour, and added 
other valuable offerings to the temple. From Athene’s 
shrine he went to the palace of Priam, where his 
guides showed him the very altar of Zeus at which 
the old king was slaughtered by the savage son of 
Achilles. But this son was an ancestor of his own, 
and he felt himself bound to expiate by offering sacri- 
fice the wrath which the murdered man might feel 
against the descendant of the murderer. The sight 
which crowned the glories of the day was the tomb 
and monumental column of Achilles. It was the 
practice of pilgrims to this sacred spot to strip off 
their garments, anoint themselves, and run naked 
round the mound under which the great hero reposed. 

Happy Achilles,” he cried, when the ceremony 
was finished ; ‘‘ who didst find a faithful friend to 
love thee during life, and a great poet to celebrate 
thee after death. The friend is here,” he went on, 

* There was even then a fierce dispute about the site of Homer’s 
Troy. Curiously enough it has been recently renewed, but the reader 
need not be troubled with it either in its ancient or its modern form. 


AT TROY 


45 


turning with an affectionate gesture to Hephaestion, 

“ but the poet ” and he was thinking, it may be 

possible, of the unlucky Choerilus. 

Nothing adverse had occurred from morning to 
evening, but those who were responsible for the 
success of the operation had been profoundly anxious. 
Sentinels stood on the highest ground at the western 
end of the Hellespont, to watch the seas both toward 
the south and the west for the first signs of the 
approach of a hostile squadron, but not a sail was to 
be seen ; and the tedious and dangerous operation of 
transferring the army from one continent to the other 
had been executed in safety. A squadron of agile 
Phoenician galleys, driven by resolute captains on 
that helpless crowd of transports, might have 
wrought irreparable damage, and even crushed the 
undertaking in its first stage. This would have 
been done if the Persian king had listened to his 
wisest counsellors ; but it was not to be. Then, as 
ever, it was true, “ Whom the gods will ruin they 
first strike with madness.” 

The army bivouacked that night, as it best could, 
on or near the shore. Next morning it marched past 
the king in battle array. A more perfect instrument 
of war the world had never seen. Skirmishers, light 
infantry, cavalry, all were as highly disciplined and 
as admirably equipped as the lavish expenditure of 
trouble and money could make them. But the 
irresistible strength of the force was in its famous 


46 


AT TROY 


phalanx. Each division — there were six of them 
that passed that day under their general’s eyes — had 
a front file of 128 men, while the files were sixteen 
deep. Every soldier in this compact body of more 
than two thousand men carried the huge Macedonian 
pike. It was twenty-two feet in length, being so 
weighted that the fifteen feet which projected beyond 
the bearer were fairly balanced by the six behind 
him. The pikes of the second rank, which stood 
three feet behind the first, projected twelve feet 
before the line, those of the third nine, of the fourth 
six, of the fifth three. The other ranks sloped their 
pikes upward, over the shoulders of their comrades, 
to form a sort of protection against missiles that 
might be discharged against them. The whole pre- 
sented a most formidable appearance ; and its 
appearance was not more formidable than its actual 
strength. It was cumbrous ; it could not manoeuvre 
with ease ; it could not accommodate itself to diffi- 
cult ground. But on ground of its own, and when it 
could bring its strength to bear, it was irresistible. 
The best infantry of Greece, though led by skilful 
generals, and fighting with desperate courage, had 
been crushed by it. Long afterwards, when the 
Macedonian army was but the shadow of its former 
self, the sight of the phalanx could still strike terror 
into the conquerors of the world.^ 

* The phalanx was a development due to the military genius of Philip of 
Macedon on the tactics adopted by Epaminondas. This great Theban 


AT TROY 


47 


Alexander’s eyes were lighted up with pride as the 
massive columns marched past him. ‘‘ Nothing can 
resist them,” he cried ; ‘‘ with these I shall conquer 
the world.” * 

commander massed his troops in a heavy column which he brought to bear 
on one point of the enemy’s line. But the Theban column was power- 
less to deal with the phalanx. At Chaeroneia it was utterly broken by 
it, all the front rank soldiers falling on the ground. They were met 
by an impasiable chevaux de /rise, Polybius writes (the passage is a 
fragment of his twenty-ninth book) : “ The consul Lucius ^milius 
[Paullus] had never seen a phalanx till he saw it in the army of Perseus 
on this occasion [the battle of Pydna] ; and he often confessed to some 
of Ws friends at Rome subsequently that he had never beheld anything 
more alarming and terrible than the Macedonian phalanx ; and yet he 
had been, if any one ever had, not only a spectator, but an actor in many 
battles.” It is interesting to note that the historian was himself one of the 
“ friends at Rome,” to whom the great general related this experience. 
“ It is impossible,” he writes elsewhere, “ to confront a charge of the 
phalanx, so long as it retains its proper formation and strength.” But 
he goes on to show that it could not do this except when it could choose 
its own ground. 

* Historians are unusually well agreed about the total of the force 
which Alexander carried ©ver into Asia. The highest numbers are 

43.000 infantry and 6,500 cavalry; the lowest, 30,000 infantry and 

4.000 cavalry. 


CHAPTER V 


AT THE GRANICUS 

The army now marched slowly eastward, covering 
scarcely eight miles a day. Alexander was not com- 
monly a general who spared his troops; but he was, for 
the present, almost timidly careful of them. A large 
Persian force had, as he knew from his spies, been 
massed for several weeks within striking distance of 
his point of disembarkation. Thanks to the supine- 
ness or pride of the Persian leaders, he had been 
allowed to make good his footing on Asian soil with- 
out opposition ; but he would not be suffered, he 
knew perfectly well, to advance without having to 
force his way. He wanted to fight his first battle 
with every advantage on his side ; a victory would 
produce an immense impression in Western Asia, a 
check on the other hand would be almost fatal. To 
bring his army into the field perfectly fresh and un- 
impaired in numbers was, for the present, his chief 
object. About noon on the fourth day his scouts 
came racing back with the intelligence that the 
Persians were posted on the right or eastern bank of 


AT THE GRANtCVS 


49 


the Granicus, a torrent-like stream which came 
down from the slopes of Ida. A halt was imme- 
diately called, and a hasty council of war held. The 
general opinion of the officers summoned, as ex- 
pressed by Parmenio, was to delay the attack till the 
following day. The king, who was as ready to over- 
rule his advisers as great generals commonly are, 
decided to fight at once. His men were flushed 
with high spirits and confidence. Their strength 
had been so carefully husbanded that they would be 
still perfectly fresh after a few more miles marching. 
The king’s only fear was lest the enemy should 
decamp before he came up with them. ‘‘ I thanked 
the gods,” he said, in announcing his decision to the 
council, ‘‘ that the enemy did not offer me battle 
when I was landing my army. I shall thank them 
not less fervently, if the enemy do offer it now when 
I am better prepared to meet them than I shall ever 
be again.” 

It was about an hour from sunset when Alexander, 
who was riding in advance with a small staff, came 
in sight of the Persian army. It was, indeed, but 
a single mile distant ; and through the clear air, un- 
encumbered by the smoke of modern artillery, every 
detail of its formation could be distinctly seen. The 
bank was lined with cavalry. On the right were the 
Medes and Bactrians, wearing the round-topped 
cap, the gaily-coloured tunic, and the scale armour 
which were distinguishing parts of their national 


50 


AT THE GRANICUS 


aress ; the Paphlagonians and Hyrcanians, equipped 
in much the same way, occupied the centre. Mem- 
non the Rhodian, the ablest of the counsellors of 
Darius, of whom we shall hear more hereafter, 
shared with a Persian satrap the command of the 
right. He had a few Greek troopers with him, but 
most of his men were Asiatics. These were, however, 
the best horsemen that the vast empire of Darius 
could send into the field. The descendants of the 
Seven Deliverers,^ with the flower of the Persian 
youth, in all the pride of a caste that claimed to 
rule more than a hundred provinces, stood in all the 
splendour of their gilded arms, to dispute the passage 
of the river. The stream, greatly diminished indeed 
from its volume in early spring, when it is swollen 
by the melting snows of Mount Ida, but not yet 
dwindled to the slender proportions of summer,^ was 
flowing with considerable volume. The ford was 
many hundred yards in length, and for all this dis- 
tance the right bank opened out into level ground. 
The whole of this was occupied by the cavalry. On 
the rising ground behind, marking the extreme limit 
reached by the floods of water, or, rather, of early 

* By this phrase are meant the seven nobles who conspired to slay the 
Magian usurper, who, after the death of Cambyses, personated the 
dead Smerdis, and held the Persian throne for a few months. Darius, 
one of the seven, became king, but to his fellow-conspirators and their 
descendants certain privileges, as immunity from taxes and free access 
to the person of the king, were accorded in perpetuity. 

* The battle of the Granicus was fought on May 25th. 


AT THE GRANICUS 


51 


Spring, the infantry, both Greek and Asiatic, were 
posted in reserve. Mounted on his famous steed 
Bucephalus, the king rode along the line, addressing 
a few words of encouragement to each squadron and 
company as he passed it, and finally placed himseli 
at the head of the right division of the army. (There 
were, it should be remembered, but two divisions.) 
For some minutes the two armies stood watching 
each other in silence. Then, as the Persian leaders 
recognized the presence of Alexander on the right 
wing of his own force — and it was easy to distinguish 
him by his gilded arms, his splendid charger, and 
the movement of the line as he rode along it — they 
began to reinforce their own left. The fame of his 
personal prowess had not failed to reach them ; and 
they knew that the fiercest struggle would be where 
he might be in immediate command. Alexander 
saw the movement, and it hastened his own action. 
If he could catch his antagonists in the confusion ot 
a change he would have them at a disadvantage. 
The word to advance was given, and the whole army 
moved forward towards the river, the right wing 
being somewhat in advance. Here was the famous 
corps d'elitey a heavy cavalry regiment that went under 
the name of the Royal Companions.” This was 
the first to enter the river. A number of javelin- 
throwers and archers covered them on either flank ; 
and they were followed by some light horse, and by 
one of the regiments of light infantry. This happened 


52 


AT THE GRANICUS 


to be Charidemus’s own ; he had begged and obtained 
permission to return to his place in its ranks. 

The van of the attacking force made its way in 
fair order through the stream. The bottom was 
rough and uneven, full of large stones brought down 
by winter floods, with now and then a hole of some 
depth, but there was no mud or treacherous sand. The 
first onset on the defenders of the further bank was 
not successful. A line of dismounted troopers stood 
actually in the water, wherever it was shallow enough 
to allow it ; on the bank above them (the summer 
bank, as it may be called, in distinction from that 
mentioned before as the limit of the winter floods) was 
ranged a dense line of horsemen, two or three files 
deep. The combatants below plied their swords, or 
thrust with their short spears; those above them 
showered their javelins upon the advancing enemy, 
and these, not only finding their footing insecure, but 
having to struggle up a somewhat steep ascent, 
failed to get any permanent hold on the coveted 
bank. The few who contrived to make their way 
up were either slain or disabled, and the rest were 
thrust back upon the troops that followed them. 
These were of course checked in their advance, and 
it was not till the king himself at the head of the 
main body of his army took up the attack that there 
appeared a prospect of success. Then indeed the 
tide of battle began to turn. For the first of many 
times throughout these marvellous campaigns the 


AT THE G RAN I C US 


53 


personal strength, the courage, the dexterity in arms 
of Alexander, a matchless soldier as well as a match- 
less general, changed the fortune of the day. He 
sprang forward, rallying after him his disheartened 
troops, struck down adversary after adversary, and 
climbed the bank with an agility as well as a daring 
which seemed to inspire his companions with an 
irresistible courage. What a few minutes before had 
seemed impossible was done ; the first bank of the 
Granicus was gained. But the battle was not yet 
won. The Persians had been beaten back from their 
first line of defence, but they still held the greater 
part of the level ground in what seemed over- 
whelming force. And now they could deliver charges 
which with the superior weight of horses and men 
might be expected to overthrow a far less numerous 
foe. Again Alexander was in the very front of the 
conflict. His pike had been broken in the struggle 
for the bank. He called to one of the bodyguards, 
a man whose special office it was to hold his horse 
when he mounted or dismounted, and asked for 
another. The man, without speaking, showed him 
his own broken weapon. Then the king looked 
round on his followers, holding high the splintered 
shaft. The appeal was answered in an instant. 
This time it was a Greek, Demaratus of Corinth, 
who answered his call, and supplied him with a 
fresh lance. It was not a moment too soon. A 
heavy column of Persian horse was advancing 


54 


AT THE GRANICUS 


against him, its leader, Mithradates, son-in-law of 
Darius, riding a long way in advance of his men. 
Alexander spurred his horse, charged at Mithradates 
with levelled pike, struck him on the face, and 
hurled him dying to the ground. Meanwhile another 
Persian noble had come up. He struck a fierce 
blow at the king with his scymetar, but in his ex- 
citement almost missed his aim, doing no further 
damage than shearing off the crest of the helmet. 
Alexander replied with a thrust which broke through 
his breastplate, and inflicted a mortal wound. There 
was a third antagonist behind, but his arm was 
severed by a sword-cut from a Macedonian officer 
just as it was in the act of delivering a blow. The 
mMeCy however, still continued with unabated fury. 
The Persian nobles pressed forward with a reckless 
courage ; and it was not till almost every leader had 
fallen that the cavalry gave way. 

In other parts of the field the resistance had been 
less obstinate. The elite of the Persian army had 
been brought together to oppose Alexander, and the 
remainder did not hold their ground with the same 
tenacity. When the phalanx, after meeting no 
opposition in making the passage of the river, formed 
again on the other shore, and made its way over the 
level ground, it encountered no resistance. All the 
defending force either had perished or was scattered 
in a wild flight over the plain. 

A force, however, still remained unbroken, which, 


AT THE GRAN IC US 


55 


had it been properly handled, might have been found 
a serious difficulty for the conquerors. The infantry 
had remained, during the conflict just described, in 
absolute inaction on the rising ground, watching 
without attempting to share in the battle that was 
being fought on the plain below. They had no 
responsible leader; no orders had been issued to 
them. The Persian nobles had felt, in fact, so blind 
a confidence in the strength of their own special 
arm, the cavalry, that they had treated this im- 
portant part of their resources with absolute neglect. 
And yet, not to speak of the native troops, there 
were not less than ten thousand Greek mercenaries, 
resolute, well-armed men, got together and supported 
at a vast expense, who were never utilized in the 
struggle, but simply left to be slaughtered. These 
now remained to be dealt with. The king had re- 
called his cavalry from their pursuit of the flying 
Persians, and had launched them against the unpro- 
tected flanks of the Greek infantry. Not content 
with what he had already done in the way of personal 
exertion — and it was, perhaps, his one defect that he 
was incontrollably eager in his passion for drinking 
the delight of battle,” he charged at the head of the 
troopers, and had a horse killed under him by a 
thrust from a mercenary’s lance. This horse was 
not the famous Bucephalus, which, as it had fallen 
slightly lame in the course of the battle, he had ejc 
changed for another charger. While he was waiting 


56 AT THE GRANICUS 

for another horse to be brought to him, the light 
infantry came up, and with it Charidemus and his 
Theban friend. Ah ! ” cried the king, recognizing 
the two comrades, with whom indeed he had ex- 
changed a few words several times on the march from 
the place of landing, ‘‘ the crowns of victory have 
fallen so far to the horsemen ; now it is your turn.” 
He had scarcely spoken when he remembered that 
one at least of the two might find former friends or 
even kinsmen in the hostile ranks, for many Thebans, 
he knew, had, after the fall of their city, taken service 
with Persia. With the thoughtful kindness that 
distinguished him till his temper had been spoilt by 
success and by absolute power, he devised for the 
young man an escape from so painful a dilemma. 
Hastily improvising a reason for sending him away 
from the scene of action he said, You must be con- 
tent to help me just now as an aide-de-camp : run to 
Parmenio ^ with all the speed you can command and 
deliver to him this tablet. It contains some instruc- 
tions which I should like him to receive at once.” 
As a matter of fact the instructions contained nothing 
more than this, ‘‘ Keep the messenger with you till 
the battle is over.” 

The final struggle of the day, from which the 
young Theban thus unconsciously received his dis- 
missal, was fierce, but not protracted. The light- 
armed infantry, following the charges of the cavalry, 

* Parmenio had been in command of the other wing of the army. 


AT THE G RAN I C US 


57 


acquitted themselves well, and Charidemus especially 
had the good luck to attract the notice of Alexander 
by the skilful way in which he disposed of a huge 
Arcadian. But the mercenaries continued to hold 
their own till the phalanx came up. The native 
levies which supported them broke in terror at the 
sight of that formidable array of steel ; and even the 
hardy Greeks felt an unaccustomed fear. Some 
indeed, having served all their time in Asia, had 
never seen it in action before. With slow resistless 
advance it bore down upon the doomed survivors of 
the infantry. The front ranks fell before it ; the rest 
stood for a few moments, wavered, and then broke 
up in hopeless confusion. Two thousand were 
admitted to quarter ; some escaped by feigning 
death as they lay amidst the piles of their comrades’ 
corpses ; but more than half of the ten thousand 
perished on the field. 

After this nothing was left but to collect the spoils 
and to bury the dead. This latter duty Alexander 
caused to be performed with special care. The 
enemy received the same decent rites of sepulture as 
were accorded to his own men. 

Late that night, for it was already dark before the 
battle was over, the two friends sat talking in the 
tent which they shared over the events of the day. 

What think you of our king now ? ” said the 
young Macedonian. “ Was there ever such a 
warrior ? ” 


58 


AT THE GRANICUS 


No,” returned the Theban. I compared him 
in my mind with our own Epaminondas. Epa- 
minondas was as brave ; but he was less possessed 
with the passion for fighting. Our great general felt 
it his duty to do everything that a common soldier 
could be asked to do; he thought it a part of a 
general’s work; and, consequently, he was lost to 
his country when he was most needed. The life for 
which ten thousand talents would have been but a 
poor equivalent was expended in doing something for 
which one that would have been dear at a score of 
drachmas would have sufficed.^ It has always been 
a puzzle to me, but doubtless so wise a man must 
have known what was best. But to your king the 
fighting is not a duty but a pleasure. He is greedy 
of it. He grudges it to others. He would like to do 
all of it himself. Yes ; you are right, he is an incom- 
parable warrior. He is a veritable Achilles. But I 
tell you he won m}^ heart in quite another way to- 
day. I have been thinking over his sending me on 
that message, and I can see what he meant. I did 
in fact see more than one face that I knew opposite 
to me, and though I should have done my duty, I 
hope, it was a terrible dilemma. The general who 
can think of such a thing on a battlefield, the king 

* A talent, I may remind my readers, was about equivalent to £200; 
a drachma to something less than tenpence, a franc^ it may be said, 
for convenience of recollection, though, strictly speaking, the drachma 
and the franc stand in the proportions of 39 to 38. 


AT THE GRANiCUS 


59 


who can remember a humble man like myself, is one 
to be honoured and loved. Yes, after to-day I can 
follow your Alexander everywhere.” 

Charidemus grasped his hand, The gods send us 
good fortune and a prosperous issue ! ” he exclaimed. 


CHAPTER VI 


HALICARNASSUS 

It is no part of my purpose to tell again in detail 
what has been so often told before, the story of the 
campaigns of Alexander. The victory of the Granicus 
had far-reaching results. It is scarcely too much to 
say that it gave all Lesser Asia to the conqueror. 
The details of the battle had been of a singularly 
impressive kind. It was a veritable hero, men said, 
a manifest favourite of heaven, who had come to 
overthrow the kingdom of Cyrus. He was incom- 
parably skilful in counsel; he was irresistible in 
fight. And then, as a matter of fact, so totally had 
the beaten army disappeared, the Great King had no 
force on the western side of the Taurus ^ range that 
could pretend to meet the invaders in the field. Here 
and there a city or a fortress might be held for him, but 
the country, with all its resources, was at the mercy of 
the invaders; and the fortresses, for the most part, did 
not hold out. The terror of this astonishing success 

' The Taurus range may be said, speaking roughly, to be the eastern 
boundary of Lesser Asia. 


HALICARNASSUS 


6l 


was upon their governors and garrisons, and there 
were few of the commanders who did not hasten to 
make terms for themselves. The capital of the 
satrapy of Phrygia, with all its treasures, was sur- 
rendered without a struggle. But a more surprising 
success, a success which astonished Alexander him- 
self, was the capitulation of Sardis. He had not 
hoped to take it without a long blockade, for an assault 
was impossible except the garrison should be utterly 
negligent or faithless, and yet he got it without 
losing a single soldier or wasting a single day. The 
Persian governor, accompanied by the notables of 
the city, met him as he was advancing towards the 
walls, and surrendered everything to him. 

What he felt himself he expressed when the next 
day he inspected the capabilities of the city, noto- 
riously the strongest place in Lesser Asia, which had 
fallen so unexpectedly into his hands. The town, 
he said, might have been held for a long time by a 
resolute garrison ; but the citadel, with its sheer 
descent on every side and its triple wall was abso- 
lutely impregnable. ‘‘ Well,” he went on, turning 
to Hephaestion, ‘‘well might old Meles have neglected 
to carry his lion’s cub round such a place as this ! ” ^ 

‘ The legend was that in the reign of this king a lion’s cub was born 
in some marvellous way, that an oracle declared that if the creature 
were carried round the fortifications of the city they never could be 
taken ; that it was so carried round, but that when the bearers came to 
the citadel, it seemed so absurd that a place so strong could be in any 
danger of capture, the king ordered that it should not be carried any 


62 


HALICARNASSUS 


A garrison of Argive soldiers was left to hold the 
place. Alexander, who, like all generals of the very 
first ability, possessed a gift for remembering every- 
thing, had not forgotten that Charidemus had many 
friends and connections in Argos, and offered the 
young man the post of second in command, but was 
not at all displeased when he refused it. You are 
right,” he said, though I thought it well to give 
you the choice. But a young man like you is fit for 
something better than garrison duty. You wish to 
follow me then ? to see Susa and Babylon, and Tyre 
and Jerusalem, and Egypt, perhaps India.” As he 
said this last word a cloud passed over his face. It 
brought back what to his dying day was the great 
remorse and terror of his life, the fate of Thebes 
and the dreaded anger of Bacchus, that city's patron 
god. For was not Bacchus the conqueror of India, 
and who could hope to be under his ban, and yet 
safely tread in his footsteps ? 

Young man,” he said, ^‘thank the gods that they 
have not made you a king, or given you the power to 
kill and to keep alive.” 

Ephesus was won as easily as Sardis had been J 
Miletus refused to surrender, but was taken by storm 
a few days after it had been invested. The only 
place of any real importance that remained in the 

further. But this was the very place which was successfully attacked 
by the soldiers of Cyrus, when that king was besieging Croesus the 
Lydian in his capital. 


HALICARNASSUS 


63 


west of Lesser Asia was Halicarnassus. But the 
capture of this town would, it was evident, be a task 
of difficulty. Memnon, now Commander-in-chief of 
the Persian forces in the west, had thrown himself 
into it. It was strongly placed and strongly fortified, 
Memnon himself, who was a skilful engineer, having 
personally superintended the improvement of the 
defences ; and it could not be attacked by sea, for the 
Persian fleet, which had been prevented from helping 
Miletus by being shut out from the harbour, held the 
port of Halicarnassus in great force. Under these 
circumstances, the fall of the town would be nearly 
as great a blow to the Great King, as had been the 
signal defeat of his army at the Granlcus. 

Alexander’s first experience was encouraging. He 
had scarcely crossed the borders of Caria when he 
was met by the Carian princess, Ada. The army 
had just halted for the midday meal, and Alexander 
with his staff was sitting under a tree when the 
approach of the visitor was announced by one of 
his outriders. Shortly afterwards she arrived, and, 
alighting from her litter, advanced to salute the 
king. 

The princess was a majestic figure, worthy, at 
least in look, of the noble race from which she 
sprang. She was nearly seventy years of age, and 
her hair was white ; but her face was unwrinkled, 
her form erect, and her step light and vigorous. 
Alexander, who had not forgotten to make himself 


64 


HALICARNASSUS 


acquainted with Carian politics, advanced to meet 
her, and kissed her hand. Welcome, my son, to 
my land,” she said, as she kissed him on the cheek. 
She then seated herself on a chair which a page had 
set for her, and told her story. Briefly, it was a 
complaint against her brother and the Persian king 
who had dispossessed her of her throne. “My brother 
took it ; the Great King has supported him in his 
wrong. My ancestors fought for his house at 
Salamis, and was faithful to it when others failed ; 
and this is his gratitude. It is enough ; we Carians 
have never been slaves, and, if he will not have us 
for friends, we will be enemies.^ One fortress the 
robber has not been able to filch from me. That is 
yours, and all that it contains. My people love not 
these Persian tyrants, and they will help you for my 
sake. One favour I ask. The gods have not given 
me the blessing of children ; will you be my son ? 
I shall be more than content, for the gods could 
scarcely have allowed me an offspring so noble.” 

* The Princess Ada was one of the five children of Hecatomnus, 
King of Caria, who was descended from the famous queen, “ the Carian 
Artemisia, strong in war,” as Tennyson describes her, who fought at 
Salamis. It was the custom of the Carian reigning house (as it was 
afterwards of the Ptolemies, the Greek kings of Egypt) for brothers to 
marry sisters. Hecatomnus, dying in 379, was succeeded by his son 
Mausolus and his daughter Artemisia. Mausolus died in 352, and was 
succeeded by his widow. She reigned alone for two years, and was 
succeeded by Idrieus and Ada, her father’s second son and second 
daughter. Idrieus died 344, and Ada reigned alone, till in 340 she 
was expelled by her youngest brother, Pixodarus . The daughter of the 
usurper was married to a Persian noble who, on his father-in-law’s death 
in 335, received Caria as a satrapy. 


HALICARNASSUS 


65 


Alexander kneeled before her ; Mother,” he said, 
“ give me your blessing, I have now another wrong 
to avenge on these insolent Persians. And remember 
that Caria, when I shall have wrested it from the 
hand of these usurpers, is yours.” 

The siege of Halicarnassus was a formidable 
undertaking. A wall of unusual height and strength 
surrounded the town, and the wall was protected 
by the outer defence of a moat, more than forty feet 
wide and twenty deep. Two citadels overlooked the 
town ; and the besieged, besides being well provided 
with food and ammunition, had the command of the 
sea. The harbour, itself strongly fortified, was 
occupied by the Persian fleet. 

The first efforts of the besiegers failed. An attack 
on the north-east of the town was repulsed with 
loss ; and an attempt to take the neighbouring town 
of Myndos, from which Alexander hoped to operate 
with advantage against Halicarnassus, was equally 
unsuccessful. The king then moved his army to 
the west side of the town, and commenced the siege 
in regular form. The soldiers, working under the 
protection of pent-houses, which could be moved 
from place to place, filled up the ditch for a distance 
of seven hundred yards, so that their engines could 
be brought up close to the walls. 

But these operations took time, and the army, 
intoxicated by its rapid success — in the course of 
a few weeks it had conquered the north-western 


66 


HALICARNASSUS 


provinces of Lesser Asia — loudly murmured at the 
delay which was keeping it so long before the 
walls of a single town. 

About a month after the commencement of the 
siege, Parmenio, who was in chief command of the 
infantry, gave a great banquet to the officers of the 
light division, at which Charidemus, in virtue of his 
commission, and his Theban friend, by special invi- 
tation, were present. The occasion was the king’s 
birthday, and Alexander himself honoured the enter- 
tainment with his company for a short time in the 
earlier part of the evening. He was received, of 
course, with enthusiastic cheers, which were re- 
newed again and again when he thanked the guests 
for their good will, and ended by pledging them in a 
cup of wine. Still a certain disappointment was felt 
when he withdrew without uttering a word about 
the prospects of the siege. There had been a 
general hope that he would have held out hopes 
of an immediate assault. The fact was that the 
battering rams had levelled to the ground a con- 
siderable distance of the wall, including two of the 
towers, and that a third tower was evidently totter- 
ing to its fall. If many of the older soldiers would 
have preferred to wait till the breach should have 
been made more practicable, the common opinion 
amongst the younger men was that the place might 
be stormed at once. 

When the king had left the banqueting tent, there 


HALICARNASSUS 


67 

was a general loosening of tongues among the 
guests. The senior officers, sitting near Parmenio 
at the upper end of the table, were sufficiently dis- 
creet in the expression of their opinions, but the 
juniors were less prudent and self-rest rained. 

‘‘ What ails our Achilles ? ’’ cried oi\e of them, 
Meleager by name, who had been applying himself 
with more than common diligence to the wine-flask. 

Is he going to play the part of Ulysses ? If so, 
we shall have to wait long enough before we find our 
way into Troy. And if a single town is to keep us 
for months, how many years must we reckon before 
we can get to Susa ? The breach, in my judgment, 
is practicable enough; and unless we are quick in 
trying it, the townsmen will have finished their new 
wall behind it, and we shall have all our labour over 
again.’’ 

A hum of applause greeted the speaker as he sat 
down. A noisy discussion followed as to the point 
where the assault might be most advantageously 
delivered. When it was concluded — and this was 
not till a polite message had come down from the 
head of the table that a little more quiet would be 
desirable — it was discovered that Meleager and his 
inseparable friend Amyntas had left the tent. This 
was sufficiently surprising, for they were both deep 
drinkers, and were commonly found among the latest 
lingering guests wherever the wine was good and 
plentiful. 


68 


HALICARNASSUS 


What has come to the Inseparables ? ” asked 
one of the company. Has the wine been too much 
for them ? Meleager seemed a little heated when he 
spoke, but certainly not more advanced than he 
usually is at this hour.” 

The next speaker treated the suggestion with 
contempt. “Meleager,” he said, “and Amyntas, 
too, for that matter, could drink a cask of this 
Myndian stuff without its turning their brains or 
tying their tongues. It may be as good as they say 
for a man’s stomach, but there is not much body in 
it. No ; they are up to some mischief, you may 
depend upon it.” 

“ Run to the tent of Meleager,” said the officer 
who sat at the lower end of the table to one of the 
attendants, “ and say that we are waiting for him.” 

The lad went on the errand and returned in a few 
minutes. He brought back the news that neither 
of the occupants of the tent were there ; and he 
added an interesting piece of information which, 
being an intelligent young fellow, he had gathered 
on his way, that they had been seen to come back, 
and to go out again with their weapons and armour. 

“ It was odd,” said Charidemus, who had his 
own idea about the matter, that Meleager had 
nothing to say about the place where the breach 
might be best stormed, when we consider the speech 
he made.” 

Some one here remarked that he had observed the 


HALICARNASSUS 69 

two Inseparables whispering together while the 
discussion was going on. 

Then,” cried Charidemus, ‘‘ depend upon it, 
they have gone to make a try for themselves.” 

‘‘ Impossible ! ” said one of the guests. “ What, 
these two ! They cannot have been such mad- 
men ! ” 

If they have,” laughed another, this Myndian 
vintage must be more potent, or our friends’ brains 
weaker, than Pausanias thinks.” 

But the incredulity with which this astonishing 
suggestion was at first received soon gave way to 
the belief that it was not only possibly, but even 
probably, true. The two friends were notorious 
dare-devils ; and the fact that they had taken their 
arms with them was, considering that they were 
neither of them on duty for the night, almost con- 
clusive. 

‘‘ Run to Parmenio’s tent,” said Charidemus’ 
superior officer to him, and tell him what we 
suppose.” 

The young man overtook the general before he had 
reached his quarters, and told his story. Parmenio, 
as may be supposed, was greatly annoyed at having 
his hand forced in this way. The Furies seize the 
the hot-headed young fools ! Are they in command 
or am I — not to speak of the king ? They have 
made their pudding ; let them eat of it. I shall 
not risk any man’s life on such hare-brained follies,” 


70 HALICARNASSUS 

% 

As he was speaking, the king himself, who was 
making a nightly round among the men’s quarters, 
came up. Parmenio told him the story, and was 
not a little surprised at the way in which he took it. 

Ah,” said the king, ‘‘ perhaps they are right. 
After all, we must be audacious, if we are to suc- 
ceed. Life is short, and the world is large ; and if 
we are to conquer it, we cannot afford to wait. It is 
madness, as you say ; but sometimes madness is an 
inspiration of the gods. Perhaps, after all, they 
will have shown us the way. Anyhow, they must 
be supported. Go,” he went on, addressing himself 
to Charidemus, “ and get all the volunteers you can 
to follow at once. And you, Parmenio, get three 
companies under arms at once.” 

The young officer found that the king’s commands 
had been anticipated. The volunteers were ready, 
and, hurrying up at the double, found that they had 
just come in time. Meleager and Amyntas had been 
at first astonishingly successful. So absolutely un- 
looked-for was their attack, that the party told off 
by the commander of the garrison to defend the 
weak point in the defences of the city was taken 
completely by surprise. Man after man was cut 
down almost without resistance, and the survivors, 
who did not realize , that their assailants were but a 
simple pair, began to retire in confusion. But such 
a panic naturally did not last long. The clash of 
swords attracted other defenders from the neigh- 


HALICARNASSUS 


71 


bouring parts of the walls, and the Inseparables 
found themselves hard pressed. They had indeed 
been parted by the rush of the enemy. Amyntas 
had set his back against a broken piece of wall, and 
was defending himself with desperate courage 
against some half-dozen assailants ; Meleager had 
been forced about twenty yards backwards, and at 
the moment of the arrival of the Macedonian volun- 
teers, had been brought to his knees by a blow from 
the sword of a Theban refugee. A furious conflict 
ensued. Reinforcements hurried up from within the 
walls, and for a time the besiegers were forced back. 
But when the regular Macedonian infantry appeared 
upon the scene, the aspect of affairs was changed, and 
the garrison could no longer hold their own. Indeed, 
it became evident that if proper preparations had 
been made, the town might have been taken there 
and then. 

‘‘You see that the madmen were inspired after 
all,” said Alexander to Parmenio. 

Meanwhile one of the two original assailants was 
in serious danger. The tide of battle had left him 
stranded, so to speak, and alone, and a disabling 
wound on the right knee prevented him from regain- 
ing the line of his friends. His companion saw his 
predicament, and rushed to his help, followed by a 
score of Macedonians, among whom were Charidemus 
and Charondas. The rescue was successfully 
effected, but not without loss. By this time the sky 


72 


HALICARNASSUS 


had become overcast, and the darkness was so thick 
that it was necessary to suspend the attack. The 
signal for retreat was accordingly sounded, and the 
besiegers hastened to retire within their lines. At 
this moment a missile discharged at random from 
the walls struck Charidemus on the head with a 
force that at once prostrated him on the ground. 
Charondas, who was close by him when he fell, 
lifted him on to his shoulders, and carried him as 
well as he could. But the burden of a full-grown 
man — and the young Macedonian was unusually tall 
and broad — was considerable, not to speak of the 
additional weight of his armour, and Charondas, 
who had been slightly wounded in the course of the 
struggle, fainted under the exertion. Partially 
recovering consciousness, he struggled on for a few 
paces in the hope of getting help. Then he lost his 
senses again. When he came to himself he was in 
the camp, but about his friend nothing was known. 
The soldier who had carried the Theban off had 
supposed him to be alone, and had unwittingly left 
his companion to his fate. 


CHAPTER VII 


MEMNON 

CHARIDEMU3 was partially stunned by the blow. 
He retained, however, a dim consciousness of what 
followed, and found afterwards, from such information 
as he was able to obtain from friends and enemies, 
that his impressions had not deceived him. First, 
then, he was aware of being carried for a certain 
distance in the direction of the besiegers* lines ; and, 
secondly, of this motion ceasing, not a little to his 
immediate riilief, and of his being left, as he felt, in 
peace. Zt was a fact, we know, that his companion 
endeavoured to carry him off, and did succeed in 
doing so for a few yards ; we know also how he 
was compelled to abandon his burden. The Mace- 
donian’s next impression was of being carried 
exactly the opposite way. He had even an in- 
distinct remembrance of having passed through a 
gateway, and of a debate being held over him 
and about him, a debate which he guessed but 
with a very languid interest indeed — so spent were 
all his forces of mind and body — might be to settle 


74 


MEMNON 


the question of his life or death. After this, he was 
conscious of being carried up a steep incline, not 
without joltings which caused him acute pain ; 
sometimes so overpowering as to make him, as he 
was afterwards told, lose consciousness altogether. 
Finally came a feeling of rest, uneasy indeed, but 
still most welcome after the almost agonizing sensa- 
tions which had preceded it. This condition lasted, 
as he subsequently learnt, for nearly three days and 
nights, causing by its persistence, unbroken as it 
was by any hopeful symptoms, no small fears for his 
life Relief was given by the skill of a local physi- 
cian, possibly the Diopeithes whose name and praise 
still survive among the monuments of Halicarnassean 
worthies which time has spared and modern research 
disinterred.^ 

This experienced observer discovered that a minute 
splinter of bone was pressing on the brain, and re- 
moved it by a dexterous operation. The patient was 
instantaneously restored to the full possession of his 
senses. Diopeithes (so we will call him) thought it 
best, however, to administer a sleeping draught, and 
it was late in the morning of the following day before 
the young man could satisfy his curiosity as to the 
events which had befallen him. 

One thing indeed became evident to him at almost 

* “ First in the large-experienced craft ” is the title with which the 
writer or transcriber of his epitaph apostrophises him. I say “ tran- 
scriber ” because the epigram is found in the Greek Anthology as well 
as among the remains of Halicarnassus. 


MEMNON 


75 


the very moment of his waking. He knew that he 
must be in one of the two citadels of the town, for 
he could see from his bed, and that in a way which 
showed it to be slightly below him, the splendid 
building which, under the name of the Mausoleum, 
was known as one of the “ Seven Wonders of the 
World.” It was then in all the freshness of its first 
splendour, for little more than ten years had passed 
since its completion. The marble steps which rose 
in a pyramid of exquisite proportions shone with a 
dazzling whiteness. The graceful columns with 
their elaborately sculptured capitals, the finely 
proportioned figures of Carian and Greek heroes of 
the past, the majestic lions that seemed, after the 
Greek fashion, to watch the repose of the dead 
king, and, crowning all, Mausolus himself in his 
chariot reining in the “breathing bronze” of his four 
fiery steeds — these combined to form a marvel of 
richness and beauty. After nature and man had 
wrought their worst upon it for fifteen hundred 
years, a traveller of the twelfth century could still 
say, It was and is a wonder.” What it was as it 
came fresh from the hand of sculptor and architect 
it would be difficult to imagine. 

Charidemus was busy contemplating the beauties 
of the great monument when a slave entered bringing 
with him the requisites for the toilet. After a short 
interval another presented himself with the materials 
of a meal, a piece of roast flesh, a loaf of bread. 


MEMNON 


76 

cheese, a bunch of dried grapes, a small flagon 
of wine, and another of water, freshly drawn from 
the well, and deliciously cool. 

By the time the prisoner had done justice to his 
fare, a visitor entered the apartment. In the new- 
comer he recognized no less important a personage 
than the great Memnon himself. Charidemus had 
seen him at the Granicus, making desperate efforts 
to stem the tide of defeat ; and he knew him well by 
reputation as the one man who might be expected to 
hold his own in a battle against Alexander himself. 
Memnon was a man of about fifty, of a tall and 
commanding figure, with bright and penetrating 
eyes, and a nose that, without wholly departing from 
the Greek type, had something of the curve which we 
are accustomed to associate with the capacity of a 
leader of men. But he had a decided appearance of 
ill-health ; his cheeks were pale and wasted, with a 
spot of hectic colour, and his frame was painfully 
attenuated. He acknowledged the presence of his 
prisoner with a very slight salutation, and after 
beckoning to the secretary who accompanied him to 
take a seat and make preparations for writing, pro- 
ceeded to put some questions through an interpreter. 
He spoke in Greek, and the interpreter, in whom 
Charidemus recognized a soldier of his own company, 
translated what he said into the Macedonian dialect. 

The first question naturally concerned his name 
and rank in Alexander’s army. Charidemus, who 


MEMNON 


77 


indeed spoke Macedonian with much less fluency 
than he spoke Greek, ventured to address his answer 
directly to the great man himself. The effect was 
magical. The cold and stern expression disap- 
peared from the commander’s face, and was replaced 
by a pleasant and genial smile. 

‘‘ What ! ” he cried, you are a Greek, and, if I 
do not mistake the accent — though, indeed, an 
Athenian could not speak better — you are a Dorian.” 

Charidemus explained that his mother was an 
Argive woman, and that he had spent all his early 
years in the Peloponnese. 

‘‘ Then I was right about the Dorian,” said 
the Memnon, in a still more friendly tone. My 
heart always warms to hear the broad ‘a’ of our 
common race; for we are kinsmen. I came, as I 
daresay you know, from Rhodes. But come, let us 
have a chat together ; we can do without our friends 
here.” 

He dismissed the secretary and the interpreter. 
When they were gone, he turned to Charidemus. 
‘‘ Now tell me who you are. But, first, are you 
quite sure that you are strong enough for a talk ? 
Diopeithes tells me that he has found out and 
removed the cause of your trouble ; and he knows 
his business as well as any man upon earth ; but I 
should like to hear it from your own lips.” 

The young man assured him that he was per- 
fectly recovered, and then proceeded to give him an 


MEMNON 


78 

outline of the story with which my readers are 
already acquainted. 

Well,” said Memnon, when the end was reached, 

I have nothing to reproach you with. For the 
matter of that, you might, with much more reason, 
reproach me. Why should I, a Greek of the Greeks, 
for I claim descent from Hercules himself,” he 
added, with a smile, “ why should I be found fighting 
for the Persians, for the very people who would have 
turned us into bondmen if they could? Ask me 
that question, and I must confess that I cannot 
answer it. All I can say is that I have found the 
Great King an excellent master, a generous man who 
can listen to the truth, and take good advice, which 
is more, by the way, than I can say for some of his 
lieutenants. And then his subjects are tolerably 
well off; I don’t think that they improve their 
condition by coming under the rule of Spartan 
warriors or Athenian generals, so far as I have 
had an opportunity of seeing anything of these 
gentlemen. What your Alexander may do for them, 
if he gets the chance, is more than I can say. But 
I am quite sure that if he manages to climb into 
the throne of the Great King, he will not find it a 
comfortable seat.” 

After a short pause, during which he seemed 
buried in thought, the commander began again. 
‘‘ I won’t ask you any questions which you might 
think it inconsistent with your duty to your master 


MEMNON 


79 


to answer. In fact, there is no need for me to do so. 
I fancy that I know pretty nearly everything that 
you could tell me. Thanks to my spies I can reckon 
to a few hundreds how many men your king can 
bring into the field ; I have a shrewd idea of how 
much money he has in his military chest, and of 
how much he owes — the first, I am quite sure, is a 
very small sum, and the second a very big one. As 
for his plans, I wish that I knew more about them ; 
but then you could not help me, if you would. But 
that he has great plans, I am sure ; and it will take 
all that we can do, and more too, unless I am much 
mistaken, to baffle them.” 

He paused, and walked half-a-dozen times up and 
down the room, meditating deeply, and sometimes 
talking in a low voice to himself. 

Perhaps you may wonder,” he began again, 
why, if I don’t expect to get any information out 
of you, I don’t let you go. To tell you the plain 
truth, I cannot afford it. You are worth something 
to me, and we are not so well off that I can make 
any present to my adversaries. Macedonian or 
Greek, you are a person of importance, and I shall 
have to make use of you — always,” the speaker went 
on, laying his hand affectionately on the young 
man’s shoulder, always in as agreeable and ad- 
vantageous a way to yourself as I can possibly 
manage. Perhaps I may be able to exchange you ; 
but for the present you must be content to be my 


8o 


MEMNON 


guest, if you will allow me to call myself your host. 
I only wish I could entertain you better. I can’t 
recommend a walk, for your friends outside keep the 
place a little too lively with their catapults. Books, 
I fear, are somewhat scarce. Halicarnassus, you 
know, was never a literary place. It produced one 
great writer, and appreciated him so little as posi- 
tively to drive him away.^ As for myself, I have 
not had the opportunity or the taste for collecting 
books. Still there are a few rolls, Homer and our 
Aristophanes among them, I know, with which you 
may while away a few hours ; there is a slave-boy 
who can play a very good game of draughts, if you 
choose to send for him; and you can go over the 
Mausoleum there, which is certainly worth looking 
at. And now farewell for the present ! We shall 
meet at dinner. I, as you may suppose, have got 
not a few things to look after.” 

With this farewell Memnon left the room, but 
came back in a few moments. “I am half-ashamed,” 
he said, in an apologetic tone, ‘‘ to mention the 
matter to a gentleman like yourself; still it is a 
matter of business, and you will excuse it. I took 
it for granted that you give me your word not to 
escape.” 

Charidemus gave the required promise, and his 
host then left him, but not till he had repeated in 

* In the epitaph on Herodotus, it is said that he left Halicarnassus, 
his native town, to “ escape from ridicule.” 


MEMNON 


8i 


the most friendly fashion his invitation to dinner. 

We dine at sunset,’* he said, but a slave will 
give you warning when the time approaches.’* 

Charidemus found the literary resources of his 
quarters more extensive than he had been led to 
expect. By the help of these, and of a long and 
careful inspection of the Mausoleum, he found no 
difficulty in passing the day. 

Dinner was a very cheerful meal. The party 
consisted of four — the two to whom my readers have 
not yet been introduced being Barsine, a lady of 
singular beauty, and as accomplished as she was 
fair; and Nicon, an Athenian of middle age, who was 
acting as tutor to Memnon’s son. Nicon was a 
brilliant talker. He had lived many years in Athens, 
and had heard all the great orators, whose manner 
he could imitate with extraordinary skill. Plato, 
too, he had known well ; indeed, he had been his 
disciple, one of the twenty-eight who had consti- 
tuted the inner circle, all of them duly fortified with 
the knowledge of geometry,^ to whom the philoso- 
pher imparted his most intimate instructions. 
Aristotle, not to mention less distinguished names, 
had been one of his class-fellows. But if N icon’s 
conversation was extraordinarily varied and interest- 
ing, it was not more than a match for Barsinfe’s. 

* “Let no one enter who knows not geometry,” was written on the 
door of the house in which Plato taught the chosen few. His popular 
lectures were addressed to much larger audiences. 


8a 

Charidemus listened with amazement to the wit and 
learning which she betrayed in her talk — betrayed 
rather than displayed — for she had no kind of 
ostentation or vanity about her. Her intelligence 
and knowledge was all the more amazing because 
she was a Persian by birth, had the somewhat 
languid beauty characteristic of her race, and spoke 
Greek with an accent, delicate indeed, but notice- 
ably Persian. Memnon seemed glad to play the 
part of a listener rather than a talker; though he 
would now and then interpose a shrewd observation 
which showed that he was thoroughly competent to 
appreciate the conversation. As for the young 
Macedonian, he would have been perfectly content to 
spend the whole evening in silent attention to such 
talk as he had never heard before; but Nicon skil- 
fully drew him out, and as he was a clever and well- 
informed young man, he acquitted himself sufficiently 
well. 


CHAPTER VIII 


AT SEA 

It was not for long, however, that Charidemus was 
destined to enjoy these somewhat lonely days, and 
evenings that seemed only too short. About a week 
after the day on which he made his first acquaintance 
with Memnon and his wife, he was roused from his 
sleep about an hour before dawn by a visit from the 
governor himself. 

Dress yourself at once,*’ said Memnon, ‘‘ I will 
wait for you.” 

We can hold the place no longer,” the governor 
explained to his prisoner, as they hurried down the 
steep path that led from the citadel to the harbour. 
‘‘ I am leaving a garrison in the citadels, but the 
town is lost. Luckily for me, though not, perhaps, 
for you, I have still command of the sea.” 

The harbour was soon reached. Memnon’s ship 
was waiting for him, and put off the moment the 
gangway was withdrawn ; the rest of the squadron 
had already gained the open sea. 

‘‘ You must make yourself as comfortable as 


84 


AT SEA 


you can on deck ; the ladies have the cabin. Hap- 
pily the night is fine, and our voyages hereabouts 
are not very long. The ^Egean is the very Elysium 
of fair-weather sailors.’* 

Charidemus rolled himself up in the cloak with 
which, at Memnon’s bidding, a sailor had furnished 
him, and slept soundly, under one of the bulwarks, 
till he was awakened by the increasing heat of the 
sun. When he had performed as much of a toilet 
as the means at his disposal would permit, he was 
joined by Memnon, and conducted to the after-deck, 
where the breakfast table had been spread under an 
awning of canvas. 

Presently the ladies appeared. Barsin6 was one 
of them ; the other was a very beautiful girl, who 
may have numbered thirteen or fourteen summers. 
** My niece, Clearista,” said Memnon, daughter,” 
he added in a whisper, ^*of my brother Mentor;” and 
then aloud, The most troublesome charge that a 
poor uncle was ever plagued with.” The damsel 
shook her chestnut locks at him, and turned away 
with a pout, which was about as sincere as her 
uncle’s complaint. The next moment a lad of ten, 
who had been trailing a baited hook over the stern, 
made his appearance. This was Memnon’s son, 
another Mentor. His tutor, the Nicon, whose 
acquaintance we have already made, followed him, 
and the party was now complete. 

It was Clearista’s first voyage, and her wonder 


AT SEA 


85 


and delight were beyond expression. The sea, calm 
as a mirror, and blue as a sapphire, under a cloudless 
sky ; the rhythmic dash of the oars as they rose and 
fell in time to the monotonous music of the fugleman 
standing high upon the stern ; the skimming flight 
of the sea-birds as they followed the galley in the 
hope of some morsels of food ; the gambols of a 
shoal of dolphins, playing about so near that it 
seemed as if they must be struck by the oars or even 
run down by the prow — these, and all the sights and 
sounds of the voyage fairly overpowered her with 
pleasure. Everything about her seemed to breathe 
of freedom ; and she had scarcely ever been outside 
the door of the women’s apartments, or, at most, the 
walks of a garden. Who can wonder at her ecstasy? 
Memnon and Barsine looked on with indulgent 
smiles. Young Mentor, who had seen a good deal 
more of the world than had his cousin, felt slightly 
superior. As for Charidemus he lost his heart on the 
spot. Child as she was — and she was young for her 
years — Clearista seemed to him the most beautiful 
creature that he had ever beheld. 

The day’s companionship did not fail to deepen 
this impression. With a playful imperiousness, 
which had not a touch of coquetry in it, the girl 
commanded his services, and he was more than con- 
tent to fetch and carry for her from morning till 
night. He brought her pieces of bread when it 
occurred to her that she should like to feed the 


86 


AT SEA 


gulls; he baited her hook when she conceived the 
ambition of catching a fish ; and he helped her to 
secure the small sword-fish which she was lucky 
enough to hook, but was far too frightened to pull 
up. When the sun grew so hot as to compel her to 
take shelter under the awning the two told each 
other their stories. The girl’s was very brief and 
uneventful, little more than the tale of journeys, 
mostly performed in a closed litter, from one 
town to another ; but the young man thought it 
profoundly interesting. He, on the other hand, had 
really something to tell, and she listened with a 
flattering mixture of wonder, admiration, and terror. 
Towards evening the unwonted excitement had fairly 
worn her out, and she was reluctantly compelled to 
seek her cabin. 

Our hero was gazing somewhat disconsolately over 
the bulwarks when he felt a hand laid upon his 
shoulder. He turned, and saw Memnon standing 
behind him with a somewhat sad smile upon his 
face. 

“Melancholy, my young friend?” he said. “Well, 
I have something to tell you that may cheer you up. 
I did not forget you yesterday when we left the town. 
Of course it would not have done to let your people 
get any inkling of my plans. If they had guessed 
that we were going to evacuate the place, they might 
have given us a good deal of trouble in getting off. 
So instead of sending any message myself, I left one 


AT SEA 


87 


for the commander of the garrison to send as soon as 
we were safely gone. Briefly, it was to say that I 
was ready to exchange you for any one of four 
prisoners-of-war whom I named — I might have said 
all four without making a particularly good bargain, 
for, if you will allow a man who is old enough to be 
your father to say so, I like your looks. If they 
accepted — and I cannot suppose for a moment that 
they will hesitate — they were to send out a boat with 
a flag of truce from Miletus, where we shall be in 
two hours’ time or so, if the weather holds good. 
Then we shall have to say good-bye.” 

“ I shall never forget your kindness,” cried Chari- 
demus. 

‘‘ Well, my son, some day you may be able to 
make me or mine a return for it.” 

** Command me,” answered the young man in a 
tone of unmistakeable sincerity ; you shall be 
heartily welcome to anything that I can do for you 
or yours.” 

Listen then,” said Memnon. ‘‘ First, there is 
something that you can do for me. Perhaps it is a 
foolish vanity, but I should like to be set right some 
day in the eyes of the world. You will keep what I 
am going to tell you to yourself till you think that 
the proper time for telling it is come. I shall be 
gone then, but I should not like those that come 
after me to think that I was an incompetent fool. 
Well, then, your king never ought to have been 


88 


AT SEA 


allowed to land in Asia. We could have prevented 
it. We had the command of the sea. We had only 
to bring up the Phoenician squadron, which was 
doing nothing at all, and our force would have been 
perfectly overwhelming. Look at the state of affairs 
now ! Your king has positively disbanded his fleet. 
He knew perfectly well that it had not a chance 
with ours, and that it was merely a useless expense 
to him. Just as we could now prevent him from 
returning, so we could have prevented him from 
coming. For, believe me, we were as strong in ships 
six months ago as we are now, and I urged this on 
the king with all my might. He seemed persuaded. 
But he was overborne. Some headstrong fools, who 
unfortunately had his ear, could not be content, for- 
sooth, but they must measure their strength with 
Alexander. So he was allowed to come, to land his 
army without losing a single man. Still, even then, 
something might have been done. I knew that we 
could not bring an army into the fleld that could 
stand against him for an hour. The Persians never 
were a match for the Greeks, man to man ; and 
besides, the Persians are nothing like what they 
were a hundred and fifty years ago. And the Greek 
mercenaries could not be relied upon. They were 
the scum of the cities, and many of them no more 
Greeks than they are gods. Any man who had a 
smattering of Greek, and could manage to procure an 
old suit of armour, could get himself hired ; and very 


AT SEA 


89 


likely the only thing Greek about him was his name, 
and that he had stolen. Well, I knew that such as 
they were, and without a leader, too — even the best 
mercenaries without a leader go for very little — they 
would be worth next to nothing. So I went to 
Arsites, who was satrap of Phrygia, and in chief 
command, and said to him, ‘ Don’t fight ; we shall 
most infallibly be beaten. There is nothing in Asia 
that can stand against the army which we have 
allowed Alexander to bring over. Fall back before 
him ; waste the country as you go, burn the houses ; 
burn even the towns, if you do not like to detach 
men enough to hold them. Don’t let the enemy find 
a morsel to eat that he has not brought himself, or a 
roof to shelter him that he does not himself put up. 
And then attack him at home. He has brought all 
the best of his army with him. What he has left 
behind him to garrison his own dominions is very 
weak indeed, poor troops, and not many of them. 
And then he has enemies all round him. The 
Thracians on the north are always ready for a fight, 
and in the south there are the Greeks, who hate him 
most fervently, and have a long score against him 
and his father, which they would dearly like to wipe 
out. Half the men that you have with you here, 
and who will be scattered like clouds before the 
north-wind, if you try to meet him in battle, will 
raise such a storm behind him in his own country 
that he will have no choice but to turn back.’ Well, 


90 


AT SEA 


Arsites would not listen to me. ^ If you are afraid, 
he said, ‘ you can go, you and your men ; we shall 
be able to do very well without you. As for wasting 
the country and burning the houses, the idea is 
monstrous. The king has given it into my sole 
keeping, and there it shall be. Not a field shall be 
touched, not a house shall be burnt in my province. 
As for dividing the army, and sending half of it into 
Europe, it is madness. What good did Darius and 
Xerxes get by sending armies thither? No — the 
man has chosen to dare us on our ground, and we 
will give him a lesson which he and his people will 
never forget.’ I urged my views again, and then the 
fellow insulted me. ‘ Of course,’ he said, ^ it does 
not suit you to put an end to the war. The more it 
is prolonged, the more necessary you will be thought.’ 
After that, of course, there was nothing more to be 
said. We fought, and everything happened exactly 
as I had foretold. Then the king made me com- 
mander-in-chief ; but it was too late. I shall be 
able to do something with the fleet, of course ; I 
shall get hold of some of the islands ; but what good 
will that do when your Alexander is marching, 
perhaps, on Susa ? ” 

He paused for a while, and took a few turns upon 
the deck, then he began again. 

‘‘ As for myself, the end is very near; I have not 
many months to live. I should like to have 
rneasured my strength with this Alexander of yours 


AT SEA 


9 ^ 


without having a pack of incompetent satraps to 
hamper me. Perhaps it is as well for me and my 
reputation that I never shall. You know my name 
is not exactly a good omen. He calls himself the 
descendant of Achilles, and verily I can believe it 
Any one who saw him fighting by the river bank on 
the day of the Gramcus might well have thought that 
it was Achilles come to life again, just as he was 
when he drove the Trojans through the Xanthus. 
How gloriously handsome he was ! what blows he 
dealt ! Well, you remember — though I don’t think it 
is in Homer, I that there was another Memnon who 
fought with the son of Peleus, and came off the 
worse ; and I might do the same. Doubtless it was 
in the fates that all this should happen. I have felt 
for some time that the end was coming for the Great 
King ; though, as I think I told you the other day, I 
am not at all sure that the change from Darius to 
Alexander will be for the better. And now for my 
present concerns. My wife and child are going to 
Susa. It is the way with the Persians to take a 
man’s family as hostages when they put him into a 
place of trust. Under other circumstances I might 

* These are allusions to the story in the Odyssey. It is “ Memnon 
the god-like, the goodliest man in the host,’* the “ son of the Day-dawn 
light,” by whom Antilochus was slain. But the story is told by post- 
Homeric writers. Dictys Cretensis says, that Memnon came with an 
army of Ethiopians and Indians from Caucasus to Troy, that he slew 
Antilochus, when that hero tried to rescue his father the aged Nestor, 
and that he was himself slain by Achilles. 


92 


AT SEA 


have refused. If the Persians wanted my services 
they must have been content to have them on my 
own terms. As it is, I do not object. My people 
will be safer there than anywhere else where I can 
put them. And that sweet child Clearista will go 
with them. But I feel troubled about them ; they 
have that fatal gift of beauty. Good Gods, why do 
ye make women so fair ? they break men’s hearts 
and their own. And there is little Mentor too. My 
elder sons — children, you will understand, of my first 
wife — can take care of themselves ; but my wife and 
my niece and the dear boy are helpless. Now what 
I want you to promise is that, if you can, you will 
protect them. Your Alexander may reach Susa ; I 
think he will ; I do not see what there is to stop 
him. If he does, and you are with him, think of me, 
and do what you can to help them.” 

The young man felt a great wave of love and pity 
surge up in his heart as this appeal was made to him. 

‘‘ By Zeus and all the gods in heaven,” he cried> 
‘‘ I will hold them as dear as my own life.” 

The gods reward you for it,” said Memnon, 
wringing his young friend’s hand, while the unacus- 
tomed tears gathered in his eyes. 

Then silence fell between the two. It was inter- 
rupted by the approach of a sailor. 

My lord,” said the man, addressing himself to 
Memnon, ‘‘there is a boat coming out from Miletus 
with a flag of truce.” 


AT SEA 


93 


Ha ! ” cried Memnon, they are sending for you. 
Well I am sorry to part. But it is for your good, and 
for mine too, for I trust you as I would trust my own 
son.*’ 

Turning to the man who had brought the message, 
he said, I expected the boat. Tell the captain 
from me to lie to till she boards us.” 

When the little craft drew near enough for the 
occupants to be distinguished, Memnon burst into a 
laugh. Ah ! ” he said, they have put a proper 
value on you, my young friend. They have positively 
sent all four. I did not like, as I told you, to ask for 
more than one ; but here they all are. It is not 
exactly a compliment to them ; but they won’t mind 
that, if they get their freedom ” 

Very shortly afterwards the boat came alongside ; 
and a Macedonian officer climbed up the side of the 
galley. He made a profoundly respectful salutation 
to Memnon, and then presented a letter. The docu- 
ment ran thus : 

Alexander ^ King of the Macedonians^ and Commander 
of the United Armies of the Hellenes to Memnon^ Com- 
mander of the Armies of the Kingy greeting. 

“ I consent to the exchange which you propose. But as 
I would not be as Diomedy who gave brass in exchange for 
goldy I send you the four prisoners whom you mentiony in 
exchange for Charidemus the Macedonian. Farewell.'^* 

The letter had been written by a secretary, but it 


94 


AT SEA 


had the bold autograph of Alexander, signed across 
it. 

“ My thanks to the king your master, who is as 
generous as he is brave,” was the message which 
Memnon gave to the officer in charge. The four ex- 
changed prisoners now made their way up the side 
of the ship, were courteously received by Memnon, and 
bidden to report themselves to the captain. 

Will your lordship please to sign this receipt for 
the prisoners ? ” said the Macedonian officer. 

This was duly done. 

Will you drink a cup of wine ? ” asked Memnon. 

The officer thanked him for his politeness, but 
declined. He was under orders to return without 
delay. 

Then,” said Memnon, ‘‘ your countryman shall 
accompany you directly. You will give him a few 
moments to make his adieus.” 

The Macedonian bowed assent, and the two 
descended into the cabin. Barsine was sitting busy 
with her needle by the side of a couch on which 
Clearista lay fast asleep. 

‘‘ Our young friend leaves us immediately,” said 
Memnon to his wife ; ‘‘ I proposed an exchange, as 
you know, and it has been accepted. The boat is 
waiting to take him ashore. He is coming to say 
farewell.” 

“ We are sorry to lose you,” said Barsine, ‘‘ more 
sorry, 1 fancy, than you are to go.” 


At S&A 


95 


Lady/’ said Charidemus, you put me in a sore 
strait when you say such a thing. All my future lies 
elsewhere ; but at least I can cherish the recollection 
of your kindness. Never, surely, had a prisoner less 
reason to wish for freedom.” 

‘‘ And now,” said Memnon, in as light atone as he 
could assume, “ I should like to give our young friend 
a keepsake. It is possible that you may meet him at 
Susa.” 

‘‘ Meet him at Susa,” echoed Barsin6, in astonish- 
ment, how can that be ? ” 

My darling,” returned Mentor, ‘‘ if our people 
cannot make any better stand against Alexander 
than they did at the Granicus, there is no reason why 
he should not get to Susa, or anywhere else for that 
matter.” 

Barsin6 turned pale, for lightly as her husband 
spoke, she knew that he meant something very 
serious indeed. 

‘‘Yes,” continued her husband, “you may meet 
him there, and he may be able to be of some use to 
you. I give him, you see, this ring ; ” he took, as he 
spoke, a ring set with a handsome sapphire from a 
casket that stood near. “If he can help you I know 
he will come himself, if anything should hinder him 
from doing that, he will give it to some one whom 
he can trust. Put yourself and your children in his 
hands, or in the hands of his deputy.” 

“ Oh ! why do you talk like this ? ” cried Barsin^. 


AT SEA 


96 

Darling/’ replied Memnon, it is well to be 
prepared for everything. This invasion may come to 
nothing. But if it does not, if Alexander does make 
his way to the capital — well, it is not to me you 
will have to look for help ; by that time I shall ” 

The poor woman started up and laid her hand upon 
the speaker’s mouth. 

Good words, good words ! ” she cried. 

He smiled. You are right, for as your favourite 
Homer says : 

“‘In sooth on the knees of the gods lieth all whereof we speak.* 

And now give him something yourself that he may 
remember you by.” 

She detached a locket that hung round her neck, 
and put it into his hand. He raised it respectfully 
to his lips. 

“ And Clearista — she might spare something. 
Artemis bless the child ! how soundly she sleeps ! ” 
said Memnon, looking affectionately at the slumber- 
ing girl. And indeed the voices of the speakers had 
failed to rouse her. Exquisitely lovely did she look 
as she slept, her cheek tinged with a delicate flush, 
her lips parted in a faint smile, her chestnut hair 
falling loosely over the purple coverlet of the couch. 

‘‘The darling won’t mind a curl,” said Memnon ; 
“ put that in my wife’s locket, and you will remember 
both of them together;” and he cut off a little ringlet 
from the end of a straggling lock. 


AT SEA 


97 


One of the sailors tapped at the cabin door. 

“ Yes ; we are coming,’* said Memnon. The young 
man caught Barsine’s hand and pressed it to his 
lips ; he knelt down and imprinted a gentle kiss on 
Clearista’s right hand. She smiled in her sleep, but 
still did not wake. A few moments afterwards he 
was in the boat, Memnon pressing into his hand at 
the last moment a purse, which he afterwards found 
to contain a roll of thirty Darics and some valuable 
jewels. In the course of an hour he stepped on to 
the quay of Miletus, a free man, but feeling curiously 
little pleasure in his recovered liberty. 


CHAPTER IX 


IN GREECE AGAIN 

On landing at Miletus Charidemus found a letter 
from the king awaiting him. After expressing his 
pleasure that he had been able to regain services 
that were so valuable, and paying him the compli- 
ment of saying that he considered the exchange had 
been very much to his own advantage, Alexander 
continued, I desire to see you so soon after you 
have regained your liberty as you can contrive to 
come to me. You can journey either by land or sea. 
In either case you have at your disposal all that you 
may need. But I should advise that you come by 
sea, for I expect by the time within which you can 
probably reach me to be not far from the coast of 
Syria. The gods preserve you in the future as they 
have in the past ! ” 

The officer in charge of the garrison of Miletus held 
very decidedly the same opinion as the king. ‘‘ You 
can understand,” he said, when Charidemus went to 
report himself, that the country is at present very 
unsettled. When such an army as that we fought 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


99 


with at the Granicus is broken up, a great number 
of the men naturally become brigands. I do not 
doubt but that every forest between here and Lycia 
is full of them. Even without the brigands, the 
roads would hardly be safe. At present, you see, it 
is all an enemy’s country, except where we have 
garrisons. No ; you could not travel without danger, 
unless I gave you all my garrison for an escort. Of 
course there are risks by sea. In the first place, it is 
very late for a voyage; and then there are Phoe- 
nician cruisers about. Still I should strongly recom- 
mend this way of going ; and, by good luck, I can 
put the very fastest ship and the very best captain 
that we have at your disposal. I will send for him, 
and you shall hear what he says.” 

In about an hour’s time, accordingly, the captain 
presented himself, a weather-beaten sailor, somewhat 
advanced in years, if one might judge from his 
grizzled hair and beard, but as vigorous and alert as 
a youth. He made light of the difficulty of the 
time of the year. “ Give me a good ship and a 
good crew, and I will sail at any time you please 
from one equinox to the other ; and let me say that 
you will not find a better ship than the Centaur 
between here and the Pillars of Hercules. As for 
the crew, I can warrant them. I have trained them 
myself. And I am not much afraid of Phoenician 
cruisers. Of course accidents may happen ; but I 
know that in a fair fight or a fair chase, the Centaur 


100 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


and its crew can hold their own against anything 
that ever came out of Tyre or Sidon. And now, my 
good sir, when can you start ? The sooner the better, 
I say, for the Persians are busy just now in the 
north, and we may very well get to our journey’s end 
without any trouble at all.” 

Charidemus said that he had nothing to keep him 
in Miletus, and that the vspeedier the start the better 
he would be pleased. Before sunrise next morning, 
accordingly, the Centaur was on its way, with a fresh 
following breeze from the north that spared the 
rowers all trouble. Halicarnassus was passed to- 
wards evening, and Rhodes the next day, brilliant 
in the sunshine with which its patron, the sun-god, 
was said always to favour it. The wind here began 
to fail them somewhat, as their course became more 
easterly ; but the sea was calm, and the rowers, an 
admirably trained crew, who acknowledged no equals 
in the Western Mediterranean, got over distances 
that would have seemed incredible to their pas- 
senger had he not been an eye-witness of their 
accomplishment. Pleusicles, the captain, was in 
high spirits, and brought out of the store of his 
memory or his imagination yarn after yarn. He had 
begun his seafaring life nearly forty years before 
under the Athenian admiral Iphicrates — he was 
an iEginetan by birth — and had seen that com- 
mander’s brilliant victory over the combined fleets 
of Sparta and Syracuse.^ He had been in every 
iB.c. 371. 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


101 


naval battle that had been fought since then ; 
first in the service of Athens, and then, either 
from some offence given or from unpunctuality in 
the matter of payment, going over to Philip of 
Macedon. Intervals of peace he had employed in 
commercial enterprises. He knew the Mediterranean 
from end to end, from Tyre to the Pillars, from 
Cyrene to Massilia. From Massilia, indeed, he had 
gone on his most adventurous voyage. A Greek 
traveller, Pytheas by name, had engaged him for an 
expedition which was to explore regions altogether 
unknown. Pleusicles related how they had sailed 
through the Straits of Calpe ^ into the immeasurable 
Ocean beyond, how they had with difficulty forced 
their way through leagues of matted sea-weed, and 
had come after months of difficult travel to an island 
in the northern sea, a land of much rain and 
little sunshine, where on a narrow strip of open 
ground between vast forests and the sea the natives 
cultivated some precarious crops of corn.^ Of so 
much Pleusicles had been himself an eye-witness : 
but there were greater marvels of which he knew 
only by hearsay, a yet remoter island surrounded by 
what was neither land nor sea nor air, but a mixture 
of all, one huge jelly-fish, as it were, and a tribe with 
whom amber, a rare and precious thing among the 

* Gibraltar. 

® This island was Britain, and is so described by the Massilian 
geographer Pytheas. 


W GREECE again 


16^ 

Greeks, was so abundant that it was used as fire- 
wood. 

On the third day the Centaur reached Patara on 
the Lycian coast, and on the next the Greek city of 
Phaselis. Here Charidemus found the king, who 
was engaged in one of those literary episodes with 
which he was wont to relieve his military life. The 
pride of Phaselis was its famous citizen, Theodectes, 
poet and orator. He had been the pupil, or rather 
the friend, of Aristotle. As such Alexander had 
known him when he himself had sat at the feet of the 
great philosopher. Indeed, though there was as 
much as twenty years difference between their ages, 
the prince and the poet had themselves been friends. 
Theodectes had died the year before in the very 
prime of life, and his fellow-citizens had exerted 
themselves to do him all possible honour. They had 
given the commission for his statue to Praxiteles, the 
first sculptor of the time, paying him a heavy fee of 
two talents,* a sum which severely taxed their 
modest resources. The statue had just then been set 
up. And now, by a piece of singular good fortune, 
as they thought it, the townsfolk had the future 
conqueror of Asia to inaugurate it. The king took 
a part in the sacrifice, crowned the statue with gar- 
lands, was present with some of his principal officers 
at the representation of a tragedy by the deceased 
author, and laughed heartily at the concluding farce 
* About £^oo. 


IN GREECE AGAIN I03 

in which the story of the healing of Cheiron, the 
Centaur, was ludicrously travestied. 

Early the next day Charidemus was summoned to 
the royal presence. The king greeted him with 
more than his usual kindness, and proceeded to 
explain the business in which he proposed to employ 
him. I am going to send you,” he said, “ first 
to Greece, and then home; I have not the same 
reason,” he went on, with a smile, that I had with 
Ptolemy and his detachment, that they were newly 
married.^ But for the next three months or so 
there will be very little doing here, and you can 
be more profitably employed elsewhere. First, you 
must go to Athens. You will be in charge of an 
offering which I am sending to the goddess, three 
hundred complete suits of armour from the spoils of 
the Granlcus. You should be a persona grata there. 
You are half an Argive, and the Argives have always 
been on good terms with the Athenians. And then 
you speak good Greek. If I were to send one of my 
worthy Macedonians they would laugh at his accent ; 
he might lose his temper, and all the grace of the 
affair would be lost. That, then, is your mission, as 
far as the world sees it ; you will take sealed in- 
structions about other matters which you will not 
open till you have crossed the sea. . . . The offering 


* Alexander did send such of his troops as were newly married to 
spend the winter of 334-3 at home, and made himself exceedingly 
popular by so doing. 


104 IN GREECE AGAIN 

is all ready ; in fact, it was lying shipped at Miletus 
when you landed there. But I wanted to see you, 
and to be sure also that you received my instructions. 
These you shall have at sunset. When you have 
received them, start back at once.” 

Punctually at sunset one of the royal pages 
brought a roll of parchment sealed with the royal 
seal. Charidemus, who had been waiting on board 
the Centaur for it, gave a formal receipt for it, and 
within half an hour was on his way westward. The 
good ship and her picked crew had better oppor- 
tunities for showing their mettle than had occurred 
on the eastward journey. Things were easy enough 
as long as they were under the lee of the Lycian 
coast ; but at Rhodes a strong head wind encoun- 
tered them ; and it was only after a hard struggle of 
at least twelve days, during which even the bold 
Pleusicles thought more than once of turning back, 
that they reached Miletus. By that time the weather 
had changed again ; and the voyage to Athens, 
though undertaken with fear and trembling by the 
captains of the heavily-laden merchantmen that 
carried the armour, was prosperous and uneventful. 

Charidemus spent about a month in Athens, find- 
ing, as might have been expected, a vast amount of 
things to interest, please, and astonish him. Some 
of the impressions made upon him by what he saw 
and heard may be gathered from extracts taken from 
letters which he wrote at this time to his Theban 
friend. 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


105 


“ . . . The armour has been presented in the 
Temple of Athene Polias. A more splendid spectacle 
I have never seen. They told me that it was almost 
as fine as the great Panathenaea, the grand triennial 
festival of which I dare say you have heard. The 
Peplos was not there nor the BaskeUbearers '^ — I 
missed, you see, the chance of seeing the beauty, 
though I saw the rank and fashion of Athens. But 
the magistrates were there, in their robes of office, 
headed by the King Archon, and, behind them a huge 
array of soldiers in complete armour, good enough to 
look at, but poor stuff in a battle, I should fancy — 
indeed the Athenians have long since done most of 
their fighting, I am told, by paid deputies. The best of 
these troops was a battalion, several thousands strong, 
of the ‘youths,’ as they called them. Students they 
are who do a little soldiering by way of change after 
their books. They can march, and they know their 
drill ; and they are not pursy and fat, as are most of 
their elders. Their armour and accoutrements are 
excellent. If their wits are only as bright as their 

* The Peplos was the sacred robe destined to adorn the statue of the 
goddess. It was carried, spread like a sail on a mast, much after the 
fashion of the banners used in processions now-a-days. It was em- 
broidered with figures, the Battle of the Giants, in which Athene was 
represented as playing an important part, being one of the chief subjects. 
The Basket-bearers were maidens who carried baskets on their heads 
containing various sacred things used in the worship. It was necessary 
that they should be of unmixed Athenian descent, and the office was con- 
sidered a great honour. Their hair was powdered ; they carried strings 
of figs in their hands, and parasols were held over their heads. 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


I06 

shields and their spear-points, they must be clever 
fellows in the lecture-room. And the Temple itself! 
I simply have not words to describe it and its 
spendours. And then there was the great statue of 
the goddess outside the Temple ; I had never seen it 
close at hand, though I remember having had the 
point of the lance which she holds in her hand and the 
crest of her helmet pointed out to me as I was sailing 
along the coast. But the effect of the whole when 
one stands by the pedestal is overpowering. Its 
magnificent stature — it is more than forty cubits 
high^ — its majestic face, its imposing attitude — she 
is challenging the world, it would seem, on behalf of 
her favourite city — all these things produce an im- 
pression that cannot be described. It is made, you 
must understand, of bronze, and the simplicity of the 
material impressed me more than the gorgeous ivory 
and gold of the Athene Polias, as they call her. 
While I am talking about statues I must tell you 
about one which I was allowed to see by special 
favour; it is made of olive wood, and is of an age 
past all counting ; the rudest shape that can be 
imagined, but extraordinarily interesting. The keeper 
o the Temple where it is (not the same as that of 
which I have been speaking, but called, by way of 
distinction, the Old Temple) have a story that it fell 
down from heaven. In the evening there was a great 
banquet in the Town-hall, a very gorgeous affair, with 

* It was about seventy feet. 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


107 


delicacies brought from all the four winds — pheasants 
from the Black Sea, and peacocks, and dolphins, and 
I know not what in flesh, fish, and fowl. Of course 
the special Attic dishes were prominent — honey, figs, 
and olives— and there were a great choice of vintages. 
I was amazed at the abundance and luxury of the 
entertainment, and could not help thinking that 
there was a great deal of foolish waste. Far more 
interesting to me than the dishes and the drinks 
were the guests. I do not mean the magistrates 
and generals, for they had nothing particularly dis- 
tinguished about them ; I mean those who have a 
permanent seat at the table. You must know that 
the Athenians have an excellent custom of rewarding 
men who have done conspicuously good service to the 
state by giving them such a seat. Of course I saw 
Phocion there. I had seen him before in the king’s 
camp ; and he has been very civil and serviceable to 
me. I sat next to a veteran who was the oldest of 
the public guests, and must have numbered fully a 
hundred years. What a storehouse of recollections 
the old man’s mind was ! Of recent things and per- 
sons he knew nothing. When I was speaking of our 
king he stared blankly at me. But he remembered 
the plague — his father and mother and all his family 
died of it, he told me. His first campaign was in 
Sicily. He had been taken prisoner and thrust into 
the stone quarries of Syracuse. He could not 
bear to think, he told me, even now of the horrors 


Io8 IN GREECE AGAIN 

of the place. Then he had fought at (Egos- 
Potami,^ and I know not where else. His last 
service, I remember, was at Mantinea, where he was 
in command of an Athenian contingent. He was 
seventy years old then, he told me, but as vigorous, 
he boasted, as the youngest of them. He saw your 
Epaminondas struck down, though he was not very 
near. And he was a disciple of Socrates. ^To think,’ 
he said, * that I should be dining here at the State’s 
expense, and that he had the hemlock draught ! I 
remember,’ he went on, ‘when he was put on his trial 
and had been found guilty, and the president asked 
him to name his own penalty, he mentioned this 
very honour that I enjoy. He deserved it much 
better, he said, for showing his countrymen how 
foolish and ignorant they were, than if he had won 
a victory at Olympia. What a stir of rage went 
through the assembly when he said it ! It quite 
settled the matter for the death penalty. And now 
here am I and he — well he has his reward elsewhere, 
if what he always said is true — and that I shall soon 
know.’ A most interesting old man is this, and I 
must try to see him again.” 

A week or two afterwards, he wrote again. 

“ I have seen Demosthenes. A young Athenian 
with whom I have become acquainted introduced me 

* This was the crushing defeat which led to the capture of Athens 
and the termination of the Peloponnesian War. 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


log 


to him. At first he was cold and distant. It is no 
passport to his favour to be a Macedonian. After- 
wards he became sufficiently friendly, and we had 
much talk together. He is not as hopeful as I am 
about the king’s undertaking. He thinks, indeed, 
that it will succeed, though, very likely, in his heart 
he wishes that it may not. But he does not expect 
much good from it. ‘ So Greece, you think,’ he said 
to me one day, ‘ will conquer Persia. I doubt it. I 
don’t doubt indeed that your Alexander will overrun 
Asia from one end to the other. Philip was a great 
soldier, and his son is a greater, while your Mace- 
donians are the stuff out of which armies rightly so 
called are made. Persia, on the other hand, is 
thoroughly rotten, and will fall almost at a touch. 
But this is not the same thing as Greece conquering 
Persia. No ; Persia will conquer Greece ; we shall 
be overwhelmed with a flood of eastern vices and 
servilities. True Greece will perish, just as surely 
as she would have perished had the bow triumphed 
over the spear at Marathon or Plataea. But this will 
scarce be welcome to you,’ and he broke off. Still 
what he said has set me thinking. Only I do believe 
that our king is too thorough a Greek to be spoilt. 
But we shall see. 

I hoped to hear the great man speak, but was 
disappointed. He very seldom speaks now. The 
fact is there are no politics in Athens ; and for the 
plaintiffs and defendants in civil causes the orators 


no IN GREECE AGAIN 

write speeches, but do not deliver them. That the 
parties concerned have to do themselves. I heard, 
it is true, a speech of Demosthenes, but it was 
spoken by a very commonplace person, and, you 
will understand, was made commonplace to suit him. 
Of course it would not do to put a piece of eloquence 
into the mouth of some ordinary farmer or ship- 
builder. Everybody knows that the suitors do not 
write the speeches, but still the proprieties have to 
be observed. 

“ The plaintiff in this case — his name was Ariston 
— had a very strange and piteous story to tell. Un- 
fortunately there was something about the man that 
moved the court irresistibly to laughter. (The court, 
you must know, is the strangest that the wit or folly 
of man ever devised — a regular mob of thousands of 
men who shout and groan if anything displeases 
them, and chatter or fall asleep if they are pleased 
to find the proceedings dull.) Well, Ariston was an 
eminently respectable man ; his hair and beard care- 
fully arranged without being in the least foppish, and 
his cloak and tunic quite glossy ; and the indignities 
of which he had to complain were so out of keeping 
with all that he looked that it was almost impossible 
not to be amused. His story was this, put briefly : 

‘‘Three years before just before King Philip’s 
death) he had been sent on outpost duty to the 
frontier. The sons of a certain Conon were his 
neighbours in the bivouac, wild young fellows who 


IN GREECE AGAtN 


111 


began drinking after the midday meal, and kept it 
up to nightfall. ^ Whereas,’ said he in a dignified 
tone which raised a roar of laughter, ‘ I conducted 
myself there just as I do here.’ The young men 
played all sorts of drunken tricks on Ariston and his 
messmates, till at last the latter complained to the 
officer in command. The officer administered a 
severe reprimand, which did, however, no manner of 
good, for that very night the ruffians made an attack 
on Ariston’s tent, gave him and his friends a beating, 
and indeed, but for the timely arrival of the officer in 
command, might have killed them. Of course when 
the camp broke up there was not a little bad blood 
between the parties to the quarrel. Still, Ariston 
did nothing more than try his best to steer clear of 
these troublesome acquaintances. One evening, 
however, as he was walking in the market-place with 
a friend, one of Conon’s sons caught sight of him. 
The young fellow, who was tipsy, ran and fetched 
his father, who was drinking with a number of friends 
in a fuller’s shop. The party rushed out ; one of 
them seized Ariston’s friend and held him fast, while 
Conon, his son, and another man, caught hold of 
Ariston himself, tore his cloak off his back, tripped 
him up, and jumped upon him, as he lay in the mud, 
cutting his lip through, and closing up both his eyes. 
So much hurt was he that he could not get up or 
even speak. But he heard Conon crowing like a 
cock to celebrate his victory, while his companions 


112 


IN GREECE AGAIN 


suggested that he should flap his wings, by which 
they meant his elbows, which he was to strike against 
his sides. Other things he heard, but they were so 
bad that he was positively ashamed to repeat them 
to the court. At last some passers-by carried him 
home, where there was a terrible outcry, his mother 
and her domestics making as much ado as if he had 
been carried home dead. After this came a long 
illness in which his life was despaired of. When he 
had told his story he gravely controverted what he 
supposed would be Conon’s defence, that this was a 
quarrel of hot-headed deep-drinking young men ; that 
both parties were gay young fellows who found a 
pleasure in roaming the streets at night, and playing 
all kinds of pranks on passers-by, and that the 
plaintiff had no business to complain, if he happened 
to get the worst of it. He was no roisterer, Ariston 
said, with a solemnity which convulsed the court. 
Indeed, the idea that such a paragon of respectability 
should be anything of the kind was sufficiently 
amusing. However, he won his cause, and got thirty 
minas damages, or will get them if he can manage 
to make Conon pay, a thing which, the friend who 
took me into court tells me, is more than doubtful. 

**You see, my dear Charondas, that there are 
other people besides philosophers in Athens. Indeed, 
from all that I could make out, though clever and 
learned men come to the city from all parts, the 
Athenians themselves seldom show any genius. As 


IN GREECE AGAIN 




for those noisy, roistering young fellows, there are 
numbers of them in the streets at night. I have 
seen them myself, again and again, though they have 
never molested me. Indeed, they keep far enough 
away from any one who is likely to give them a warm 
reception. I cannot helo thinking that, whatever 
Demosthenes may say, they would be better employed 
if they were following our king.” 


CHAPTER X 


AT ATHENS 

In addition to his formal duties as commissioner in 
charge of the offering to the goddess, Charidemus 
was entrusted with special messages from Alexander 
to his old teacher, Aristotle, who had been a resident 
at Athens for now about two years. He found the 
philosopher in his favourite haunt of the Lyceum ^ 
just after he had dismissed his morning class of 
hearers. Aristotle was somewhat slight and insig- 
nificant in person, but he had a singularly keen and 
intelligent face. His appearance, as far as dress was 
concerned, was rather that of a man of the world 
than of a thinker. In fact, it was almost foppish. 
His hair was arranged with the greatest care. His 
dress was new and fashionable in cut; and his fingers 
were adorned with several costly rings. Charidemus 

* The Lyceum was a gymnasium, i.e», a place where athletic exercises 
were practised, in the eastern suburb of Athens, with covered walks 
round it. In the largest of these, called for distinction’s sake The Walk, 
Aristotle was accustomed to teach. It was thus that his school got the 
name of the “Peripatetics.” 


AT ATHENS 


II5 

could not help thinking what a remarkable contrast 
he presented to the eccentric being whom he had 
seen in his tub at Corinth. But in the great man’s 
talk there was not a vestige of affectation or weak- 
ness. Charidemus was struck with the wide range 
of subjects which it embraced. There was nothing 
in the world in which he did not seem to feel the 
keenest interest. He cross-examined the young man 
as to the features of the countries which he had 
traversed, the products of their soil, the habits of 
the natives, in a word, as to all his experiences. He 
expressed a great delight at hearing of the rich 
collection of curious objects which the king was 
making for him, and exhorted his young visitor never 
to let either the duties or the pleasures of a military 
life interfere with his persistent observation of 
nature. If the king’s designs are carried out, ’ he 
said, if the gods permit him to go as far as I know 
he purposes to go, he and those who go with him 
will have the chance of solving many problems 
which at present are beyond all explanation. This 
is a world in which every one may do something ; 
and I implore you not to miss your chance. Mind 
that no fact, however insignificant it may seem, is 
unworthy of attention. Once the followers after 
wisdom began with theories ; I begin with facts, and 
I take it that I cannot have too many of them.’’ 

Charidemus then put to the philosopher a question 
on Greek politics, which he had been specially in- 


Ii6 


AT ATHENS 


structed to ask. It was, in effect, whether Alexander 
had any reason to dread a coalition of the Greek 
states taking advantage of his occupation in his 
schemes of conquest to assail him in the rear. I 
stand aloof from politics,” was the answer of Aristotle. 

No one, either now, or when I was in this city 
before, ever heard me express an opinion on any 
political subject ; no one ever ventured to put me 
down as a Macedonian or an anti-Macedonian 
partisan. But though I stand aloof, I observe, and 
observe, perhaps, all the better. Tell the king that 
he need have no fear of a coalition against him. 
Here in Athens there will be no movement in that 
direction. The parties are too equally balanced; 
and the patriots, even if they were stronger than 
they are, would not stir. As for Sparta, it is sullen 
and angry ; but the Spartans have long since lost 
their vigour. No ; tell the king that his danger is 
at home. His mother and his regent^ are deadly 
foes. He must be friendly to both, and this it will 
require all his practical wisdom to do. And let him 
beware of plots. Plots are a poisonous weed that 
grows apace in an Eastern soil. And he has theories 
about men which may be a source of peril to him. 
I have often told him that there are two races, 
the free by nature and the slave by nature, races 
which are pretty well equivalent, I take it, to Greeks 

* Antipater, who was left in charge of Macedonia and the hom<» 
provinces by Alexander when he started on his Asian expedition. 


AT ATHENS 


117 

and barbarians. He thinks that he can treat them 
both as equal. I fear that if he tries the experiment 
he will alienate the one and not conciliate the other. 
But it is useless to talk on this subject. If I have 
not been able to persuade him, I do not suppose that 
you can. But you can at least tell him from me to 
beware.” 

From Athens Charidemus went to Pella. Alex- 
ander was perfectly well aware of the state of affairs 
at home. The letters of his mother, Olympias, had 
been full of the bitterest complaints against ‘Anti- 
pater the regent, and the ill-feeling between the two 
was a source of serious danger, especially in view of 
the concealed disaffection of some of his own kins- 
men. Charidemus, whose sagacity and aptitude for 
affairs the king’s penetration had noticed, came to 
observe these facts for himself. This was, in fact, the 
secret errand which Alexander had entrusted to him. 
No one would suspect that a serious political mission 
had been confided to one so young ; the fact that he 
had been brought up in Greece had detached him 
from native parties ; in fact, he would have especially 
favourable opportunities of observing the set of 
feeling in Macedonia, while he was engaged in his 
ostensible occupation of looking after the reinforce- 
ments and stores which were to be sent out to 
Alexander in the spring. 

Whilst he was thus employed he found the winter 
pass rapidly away. At the same time he had no 


ii8 


AT ATHENS 


particular reason for regretting his absence from the 
army. It was engaged in the important but tedious 
work of establishing a perfectly solid base of opera- 
tions. Alexander felt that he must have Lesser 
Asia thoroughly safe behind him, and he employed 
the earlier part of the year ^ in bringing about this 
result. But the romantic part of the expedition was 
yet to come. The great battle or battles which the 
Persian king was sure to fight for his throne were yet 
in the future. The treasures of Persepolis and Ecba- 
tana, Babylon, and Susa, were yet to be ransacked; 
and all the wonders of the further East were yet to 
be explored. A letter from Charondas, which was put 
by a courier into the young man’s hand on the very 
eve of his departure from Pella, will tell us some- 
thing about the doings of the army during this 
interval. It ran thus — 

^‘You have missed little or nothing by being at 
home during our winter campaign. For my part I 
have not so much as once crossed swords with an 
enemy since I saw you last. Our experiences repeat 
themselves with a curious monotony. There are 
strongholds in the country which might give us an 
infinitude of trouble ; but, after a mere pretence of 
resistance, they yield themselves without a blow. 
Hear what happened at Celenae as a specimen of 
all. The town itself was unwalled — I cannot help 


* 333 


AT ATHENS 


119 

thinking, by the way, that walls often do a town 
more harm than good — but the citadel was impreg- 
nable. I never saw a place v/hich it would be 
more absolutely hopeless to attack. The garrison 
was ample ; they were provisioned, as we have after- 
wards discovered, for two years, and theie was a 
never-failing spring within the walls. Yet the king 
had a message the very next day after he occupied 
the town, offering to surrender the place if within 
sixty days no succour should come from Darius. 
And surrendered it was. Here was one of the 
strongest positions in Asia, and it did not cost us 
a single arrow, much less a single life. The fact is 
these people have no country to fight for. The 
natives have changed masters again and again ; and 
the mercenaries would quite as soon receive pay 
from one side as the other, and naturally prefer to 
be with that which gives the hardest knocks. 

At Gordium we had a very interesting experience. 
There is a strange story connected with the place 
which an old Greek merchant who had lived there 
for many years told me. It was something of this 
kind : 

“There was once — some four hundred years ago, 
as nearly as I could make out — a certain Gordius in 
this country. He was a poor peasant, cultivating a 
few acres of his own land. One day as he was 
guiding his plough with two oxen before him, an 
eagle settled on it, and kept its place till the evening. 


120 


AT ATHENS 


The man went to Telmissus, a town famous for its 
soothsayers, to find out, if he could, what this marvel 
might mean. Outside the gate of Telmissus he met 
a girl ; and finding that she, too, practised the 
soothsaying art, he told her his story. ‘ Offer a 
sacrifice to King Zeus of Telmissus,’ she said. This 
he did, the girl showing him how he should proceed, 
and afterwards becoming his wife. For many years 
nothing happened, not indeed till Gordius’ son by 
this marriage had grown up to manhood. At this 
time there were great troubles in Phrygia, and the 
people, inquiring of an oracle how they might get 
relief, received this answer : 

** Phrygians, hear : a cart shall bring 
To your gates your fated king. 

He, ’tis writ, shall give you peace ; 

Then shall Phrygia’s troubles cease.’* 

The people had just heard this answer when Gordius, 
who had come into the town on some ordinary 
business of his farm, appeared in the market-place 
riding on his cart with his wife and son. He was 
recognized at once as the person pointed out by the 
oracle, and named with acclamations as the new 
king of Phrygia. The first thing that he did was to 
take the cart with its yoke to the temple of Zeus the 
King, and tie the two to the altar. Whoever should 
untie the knot of this fastening, a later oracle declared, 
should be king of all Asia. 

‘‘ This was the story which I heard, and which, of 


AT ATHENS 


121 


course, reached the king’s ears. The rumour ran 
through the army that the king was going to try his 
fortune, and the next day the temple was crowded 
with chiefs of the country and with officers of our 
own army. The Phrygians, we could see, believed 
the whole story implicitly ; our people did not know 
what to think. There is not much faith now-a-days 
in such things. Still there was a general feeling 
that the king had better have left the matter alone. 
Well, it was as ugly a knot as ever was seen. No 
one could possibly discover where the cord began or 
where it left off. For a time the king manfully 
struggled with the puzzle. Then as it defied all his 
efforts, one could see the angry colour rising in his 
cheeks, for he is not used to be baffled by difficulties. 
At last he cried, ‘ The oracle says nothing about the 
way in which the knot is to be undone. If I cannot 
untie it, why should I not cut it ? ’ And in a 
moment he had his sword out, dealt the great 
tangle a blow such as he might have delivered at 
a Persian’s head, and cleft it in two as cleanly as if 
it had been a single cord — there was not a shred 
left hanging on either side. Did he fulfil the decree 
of fate, or cheat it ? Who can say ? This, however, 
must be pretty clear to every one by now, that there 
is no knot of man’s tying which that sword will not 
sever. But there are knots, you know, dearest of 
friends, that are not of man’s tying. May he and 
we have safe deliverance out of them ! ” 


CHAPTER XI 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 

It had been originally arranged that Charidemus 
should rejoin the army at Gordium, where Alexander 
was giving his men a few days’ rest after their 
winter’s campaign, while he waited for the reinforce- 
ments from Macedonia, the fresh levies, that is, and 
the newly-married men who had been allowed to 
spend the winter at home. But circumstances 
occurred which made a change of plan necessary. 
Some heavy siege engines which were to have gone 
with the troops were not finished in time. The men 
could not wait till they were ready, for the very good 
reason that they were being themselves waited for. 
Nor could they be sent after the army, for means of 
transport were wanting. The only alternative was 
to send them by water, a very convenient arrange- 
ment as far as easiness of carriage was concerned, 
but, seeing that the Persians were decidedly superior 
at sea, not a little hazardous. However they had to 
go somehow, and by sea it was determined to send 
them, Tarsus being the port of destination, as being 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 1 23 

a city which Alexander had good reasons for believing 
would easily fall into his hands. 

Ten merchantmen had been chartered by the 
regent to convey the machines. All were provided 
with a certain armament. This, however, was to be 
used only in case of extreme necessity ; for protec- 
tion against ordinary attacks the fleet had to rely 
upon its convoy, two ships of war, the Dolphin and 
the Lark. Charidemus was second in command of 
the Dolphin. 

Everything seemed to conspire against the unlucky 
enterprise. First, the workmen were intolerably 
slow. Then, when everything had at last been 
finished, some of the machinery was seriously dam- 
aged in the process of shipping. And, finally, 
when at last the squadron got under weigh, the 
Lark was run by a drunken steersman on a rock 
that was at least ten feet above the water, and 
that in broad daylight. Happily she was only a 
few hundred yards from the mouth of the harbour 
when the disaster occurred, and the crew by 
desperate exertions were able to get her into shallow 
water before she went down. But the diver who 
inspected the damage reported that at least a 
month would be wanted before the necessary repairs 
could be completed. To wait a month was a sheer 
impossibility, and there was not another war-ship 
at hand, so bare had the harbours been stripped to 
supply transport for the army of Asia. There was, 


124 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


therefore, nothing for it but for the Dolphin to under- 
take the whole duty of the convoy. But the chapter 
of accidents was not yet finished. On the fourth 
night of the outward voyage Chaerephon, the Dolphin's 
captain, had been talking to his second-in-command. 
The latter had just left him to go below when he 
heard a cry and a splash. He ran to the vessel’s 
side, and was just in time to see the captain’s 
white head above the water in perilous proximity 
to the oars, which the rowers were plying at 
the time at full speed. The signal to back water 
was immediately given, and obeyed without loss of 
time ; but the captain was never seen again. He 
was known to have been an excellent swimmer, and 
it is very probable that he had been struck by one of 
the oars. 

Charidemus found himself in command of the 
fleet, a promotion that was as unwelcome as it was 
unexpected. As soon as it was light the next day, he 
signalled to the captains of the merchantmen that he 
wished for a conference. The captains accordingly 
came on board ; he laid the situation before them, 
and asked their advice. The consultation ended in 
his choosing the most experienced among them as 
his sailing master. What may be called the military 
command he was compelled to retain in his own 
hands. It was evident that they were both unfit and 
unwilling to exercise it. 

For some days the voyage was continued under 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


125 


favourable conditions. A brisk breeze by day spared 
the rowers all labour, and this daily rest enabled 
them to utilize the calm moonlight nights. To the 
war-ship, with its superior speed, progress was easy 
enough ; and the crews of the merchantmen, under 
the stimulus of a promised reward if Tarsus was 
reached within a certain time, exerted themselves to 
the utmost to keep up with her. 

The squadron touched at Patara, where Chari- 
demus found some much desired intelligence 
about the movements of the Persian fleet. The 
main body, he heard, was still in the Northern 
uEgean ; but there was a small detachment cruising 
about Rhodes, with the object, it was supposed, of 
intercepting any eastward-bound ships. It was 
quite possible, the Persians having an highly organ- 
ized spy system, that the voyage of the Dolphin 
was known to them. The enemy was, of course, to 
be avoided if possible, as an engagement would be 
sure to end in loss. The old sailor whom Chari- 
demus had taken as his prime minister, had inter- 
vened with some sagacious advice. “The Phoenicians,” 
he said, will be sure to watch the channel between 
Rhodes and the mainland. The best way, there- 
fore, of giving them the slip, will be to turn your 
ships’ heads due south. I think, sir,” he went on, 
‘‘that we sailors are far too fond of hugging the 
shore. The shore, it seems to me, is often more 
dangerous than the open sea. For us, sir, under 
present circumstances, it is so most certainly.” 


126 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


The signal to sail south was accordingly hoisted 
on board the Dolphin , and obeyed, though not, it may 
be supposed, without much surprise by the merchant 
vessels. The result was a complete success. The 
Phoenicians, as Charidemus afterwards learnt, must 
have been encountered had he followed the usual 
route. As it was, he saw nothing of them. 

After sailing about thirty miles on a southerly 
tack the course of the squadron was changed to the 
eastward. Before long Cyprus was sighted, and, 
by the old sailor’s advice, passed on the left hand. 
They had just rounded the eastern extremity of the 
island (now called Cape Andrea), and had Tarsus 
almost straight before them to the north, and not 
more than ninety miles distant, when they found 
that their adventures were not yet over. Two craft 
hove in sight which the experienced eye of the sail- 
ing master at once recognized as Cilician pirates. 
Charidemus immediately resolved on his plan of 
action, a plan which he had indeed already worked 
out in his mind in preparation for the emergency 
that had actually occurred. He signalled to the 
merchantmen to scatter, and then make the best 
of their way to their destination. This done he 
ordered his own steersman to steer straight for the 
enemy. The pirates had not anticipated any such 
bold manoeuvre, and in their anxiety to prevent the 
escape of the merchantmen had parted company. 
The distance between the two Cilician galleys was 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


127 


now so great that Charidemus was sure that he could 
get at close quarters with the nearest of the two 
before the more remote could come up to help her 
consort. He had the advantage of the wind behind 
him, and putting up all his sails, while he bade his 
fugleman strike up his liveliest and quickest tune, 
he bore down with all the speed that he could make 
on the enemy. The issue of the engagement was 
scarcely doubtful. The pirate was a long craft, 
very low in the water, and crowded with men. Able 
to row and sail with unusual speed, it could always 
count on overtaking the cumbrous and slow-moving 
traders, who, when overtaken, could be boarded with 
irresistible force. But the pirates were not prepared 
to meet an attack from a strongly built and well 
equipped man-of-war. Indeed, they were obviously 
paralyzed by the surprise of so bold a movement. 
In any case they would not have been a match for 
the Dolphin, a vessel of much superior weight, and 
furnished with a powerful ram. As it was, the 
pirate captain acted with a vacillation that ensured 
his destruction. When it was too late, he resolved 
to fly, and, if possible, to join his consort. The 
resolve might have been judicious had it been taken 
earlier ; as it was, it had a fatal result. The crew 
were flurried by finding themselves in circumstances 
so unusual — for they were not accustomed to stand 
on the defensive — and were slow and clumsy in 
executing the captain’s order. The consequence 


128 A PERILOUS VOYAGE 

was that the Dolphin struck the pirate craft, and cut 
it down to the water’s edge. No sooner had the blow 
been delivered than Charidemus gave the signal to 
back-water. The pirates, if they were only given a 
chance to board, might well change the fortunes of 
the day, so numerous were they, so well armed, and 
so experienced in boarding attacks. All such chance 
was gone when the Dolphin had got fifty yards away. 
With mainmast broken, and the oars of one side 
shattered to pieces, the pirate ship could not attempt 
to pursue. So damaging indeed had been the blow 
that all the efforts of the crew, and of the consort 
ship which hurried up to give help, were wanted to 
keep the vessel afloat. 

Late in the evening of the following day, and with- 
out meeting with any further adventure, Charidemus 
reached the mouth of the Cydnus. That night he 
anchored with his charges inside the bar, and the 
next day made his way up to the city of Tarsus, 
which was situated, I may remind my readers, some 
seven or eight miles from the mouth of the river. 

The new-comers found the city in a state of con- 
sternation. The king was dangerously ill. Some 
said that he was dying. Now and then it was 
whispered that he was dead. The cause of his 
malady was simple enough. After a long march 
under a burning sun — for Alexander had a passion 
for sharing all the fatigues as well as all the dangers 
of his men — he had plunged into the Cydnus, an ice^ 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


129 


cold stream, fed by the melting snows from the 
Cilician Highlands. But the maladies of great men 
are not so easily accounted for. There were mysteri- 
ous rumours of poison, nor could Charidemus forget 
the sinister hints which he had heard from Aristotle. 
It was possible, he could not help thinking, that 
Persian drugs, aided by Persian gold, might have had 
something to do in bringing about this most un- 
toward event. 

After reporting his arrival, and the safe convey- 
ance of the munitions of war which had been under 
his charge, Charidemus made his way to the quarters 
of his regiment, and was heartily welcomed by his 
comrades. He had, of course, much to tell, but it 
was impossible at that time to discuss any topic but 
the one absorbing subject of the king’s illness. 

‘‘ The king’s doctors have refused to prescribe for 
him,” said Charondas, nor am I surprised. A 
couple or so of gold pieces if you succeed, and to 
lose your head if you fail, is not a fair bargain.” 

“ Is there any news, Polemon ? ” was the general 
cry, as a young officer entered the room. 

Yes,” said the new-comer, but whether it is 
good or bad is more than I can say. Philip the 
Acarnanian has consented to prescribe for the king.” 

“ Philip is an honest man,” cried the young 
Theban. ‘‘ He and his father before him were great 
friends of ours.” 

“Apollo and iEsculapius prosper him! ” said one 


ISO 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


of the company, and the prayer was heartily echoed 
by all who were present. 

Hour after hour bulletins of the king’s condition 
were issued. They were cautiously worded, as such 
documents commonly are, but there was nothing 
encouraging about them. The general fear grew 
deeper and deeper as the day wore slowly on. 

‘‘Let us go and see Philip,” said Charondas to 
his friend, as they were sitting together in gloomy 
silence after their evening meal. “ I think that he 
will admit us when he hears my name, and we shall 
at least know all that is to be known. 

The friends found the physician’s house strongly 
guarded. So excited were the soldiers that there 
was no knowing what they might not do. Were a 
fatal result to follow, the guard itself would hardly 
be able to protect the unfortunate man. Charondas 
obtained, as he had expected, admission for himself 
and his companion by the mention of his name. The 
first sight of the physician was curiously reassuring. 
He was perfectly calm and confident. “ What about 
the king ; ” was the question eagerly put to him. 
“ Do not fear,” was the quiet reply, “ he will 
recover.” Just as he spoke a slave entered the room 
with a communication from the attendants of the 
king. The physician read it with unmoved face, and 
after taking a small phial from a case of medicines, 
prepared to follow the messenger. 

“Wait for me here,” he said, “I shall be back 
shortly, and shall have something to tell you.” 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


The friends sat down, and waited for an hour, an 
hour as anxious as any that they had ever spent in 
their lives. At the end of that time Philip came 
back. In answer to the inquiries which they looked 
rather than put into words, he said — 

He goes on well ; it is just as it should be. He 
had to be worse before he could be better. And he 
is young, and strong, and the best of patients. He 
deserves to get well, for he trusts his physician. 
Such patients I very seldom lose. When I gave him 
the medicine that I had mixed, he took it, and drank 
it without a word. Afterwards — mark you, after- 
wards — he handed me a letter which some one had 
sent him. ‘ I had been bribed by Darius ’ — that 
was the substance of it — ‘to poison him.’ Now, if 
I had had that letter before I prescribed, I should 
have hesitated. I do not think I should have 
ventured on the very potent remedy which I ad- 
ministered. And yet there was nothing else, I felt 
sure, that could save his life. Yes, as I said, he 
deserves to live, and so he will. He has been very 
near the gates ; but I left him in a healthy sleep, 
and, unless something untoward happens, from 
which Apollo defend us, he will be well before the 
new moon.” 

The physician’s prophecy was fulfilled. The king, 
when the crisis of the fever was once successfully 
passed, recovered his strength with amazing quick- 
ness. The solemn thanksgiving for his recovery 


132 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


actually was fixed, so accurate had been the Acar- 
nanian’s foresight, for the day of the new moon. 

The thanksgiving was a great festival, kept with 
greater heartiness than such celebrations commonly 
are. That the army was delighted to recover their 
heroic leader need not be said ; but their joy was 
equalled by that of the townsfolk of Tarsus. This 
city, though Assyrian in origin,^ had become 
thoroughly Greek in sentiment and manners, and 
was already acquiring something of the culture 
which afterwards made it the eastern rival of Athens, 
It was proportionately impatient of Persian rule, and 
hailed the Macedonian king as a genuine deliverer. 
The festivities of the day were crowned by a 
splendid banquet, at which Alexander entertained 
the chief citizens of Tarsus and the principal officers 
of the army. He was in the act of pledging his 
guests when an attendant informed him that a 
stranger, who was apparently a deserter from the 
Persian army, had urgently demanded to see him, 
declaring that he had information of the greatest 
importance to communicate. 

‘‘ Bring him,’' cried the king. ‘‘ Something tells 
me that this is a lucky day, and that the gods have 
not yet exhausted their favours.” 

The stranger was brought in between two soldiers. 
A more remarkable contrast to the brilliant assem- 

^ It was founded by Sardanapalus (Assur-bani-pal), built, according 
to the legend, along with Anchialus, in a single day. 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


133 


blage of the royal guests could hardly have been 
imagined. His face was pale and haggard, his eyes 
bloodshot, his hair unkempt, his dress — the one- 
sleeved tunic of a slave — worn and travel-stained. 
The splendour of the scene into which he had been 
brought seemed to overpower him. He reeled and 
would have fallen, but that the soldiers on either 
side held him up. 

“ Give him a draught of wine,” cried the king. 

A page handed him a brimming goblet of Chian. 
He drained it, and the draught brought back the 
light to his eyes and the colour to his cheek. 

“ And now,” said the king, “ tell us your story. 
But first, who are you, and whence do you come ? ” 
My name is Narses,” said the man, “ I am a 
Carian by birth. I was the slave of Charidemus the 
Athenian.” I 

‘‘And you have run away from your master,” 
interrupted the king, who began to think that the 
man was only a common deserter, hoping to get a 
reward for information that was probably of very little 
value. 

“The gods forbid ! ” said the man. “ There was 
never a better master, and I had been a thankless 
knave to leave him. No, my lord, Charidemus the 
Athenian is no more.” 

* Charidemus, it will be remembered, was one of the Athenians 
exiled at the demand of Alexander after the fall of Thebes. He had 
taken refuge with Darius. 


134 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


How so asked the king. “ Tell us what you 
know.” 

‘‘The Persian king held a great review of his army 
in the plain of Babylon. First he numbered them, 
sending them into a sort of camp, surrounded by a 
ditch and rampart, that was reckoned to hold ten 
thousand men. I watched them march in and out, 
my lord, for I was then with my master, for the 
whole of a day from sunrise to sunset. As they 
came out they took their places on the plain, stretch- 
ing as far as I could see and further too. ‘ What 
think you of that ? ’ said King Darius to my master, 
when the last detachment had marched out, ‘ what 
think you of that ? are there not enough there to 
trample these insolent Greeks under foot ? ’ My 
master was silent ; at last he said, ‘ Does my lord 
wish me to speak what is in my heart ? ’ ‘ Speak 

on,' said the king. Then my master spoke out : 
‘This is a splendid sight, I confess. No one could 
have believed that there could have been gathered 
together so great, so splendid a host. And I can 
well believe that there is no people in Asia but 
would see it with fear and a very just fear too. But 
the Macedonians and the Greeks are a very different 
race. You have nothing here that can be matched 
for a moment with the solidity of their array, with 
their discipline, with the speed and order of their 
movements. If you want my advice, my lord king, it 
is this : It is only in Greece that you can find men 


A PERILOUS VOYAGE 


135 


who can stand against Greeks. Send these useless 
crowds away. Take the silver and gold with which 
they make all this useless display, and use it to hire 
men who can really fight.’ There was a perfect 
howl of rage from all the Persian nobles who were 
standing by, when my master said this. Some of 
them shook their fists at him ; some drew their 
scymetars. As for the king himself he was as furious 
as any of them. He jumped up from his seat, and 
caught my master by the throat. ‘Take him away,’ 
he shouted to the guards who stood behind his 
throne, ‘ take him away, and behead him.’ My 
master’s face did not change one whit. ‘ You asked 
for the truth, my lord,’ he said, ‘ but it does not 
please you. When it comes to you, not in word 
but in deed, it will please you less. Some day you 
will remember what has been said to-day, and 
Charidemus will be avenged.’ After that the execu- 
tioners led him away, and I saw him no more.” 

“And about yourself,” said the king, “how came you 
hither ? ” There was a fierce light in the man’s eyes 
as he answered this question. “ My lord,” he said, 
“ the king divided all that belonged to my master 
between the executioners. I watched my time, and 
the day after his death I plunged my dagger into the 
heart of one of the ruffians ; I wish that I could have 
plunged it into the king’s. Then I escaped.” 

“To-morrow,” said the king, “you shall tell me in 
what way you came, and what you saw on the road. 


136 A PERILOUS VOYAGE 

Just now you are only fit for rest Treat him well, 
and take care of him, he went on to the attendants. 
And now, gentlemen,” he said to his guests, “ said 
I not well that the gods had good tidings for me on 
this day ? What could be better than this ? If 
the choice had been given me, I could have chosen 
nothing more to be desired — Darius means to give 
battle.” 


CHAPTER XII 

ON THE WRONG SIDE 

The good fortune of Alexander was not yet ex- 
hausted ; indeed, if it was to be called good fortune 
at all, it remained with him in a remarkable way up 
to the very end of his career. It was a distinct gain 
that the Persian king had abandoned the waiting 
policy of Memnon, and, in a haughty self-confidence 
that, as has been seen, brooked no contradiction, 
resolved to give battle to the invader ; but there was 
a yet greater gain remaining behind. Not only was 
he going to give battle, but he was going to give it 
exactly in the place which would be the least advan- 
tageous to himself and the most advantageous to his 
antagonist* How this came about will now be 
explained. 

Alexander called a hurried council of war after the 
banquet to consider the intelligence which had been 
just brought to him. He expounded to his lieu- 
tenants at length the views which he had briefly 
expressed at the banqueting hall. If Darius was in 


138 ON THE WRONG SIDE 

the mind to fight, their policy was to give him the 
opportunity that he desired as soon as possible. 
The suggestion was received with enthusiasm by 
the majority of the officers present ; but there was a 
small minority, led by Parmenio, that ventured to 
dissent. Parmenio was the oldest and most expe- 
rienced general in the army, numbering nearly fifty 
campaigns. He had often been extraordinarily 
successful, and Philip had trusted him implicitly. 
‘‘ I have never been able to find more than one 
general,’’ the king had been wont to remark, and 
that general is Parmenio.” Accordingly his voice 
had no little weight. Even Alexander had at least 
to listen. The substance of his counsel on the 
present occasion was this : Let us fight by all 
means ; but let us fight on our own ground. If we 
march to attack Darius on the plains where he has 
pitched his camp, we shall be giving him all the 
advantage of place ; if we wait here till he comes to 
attack us here, this advantage will be ours.” 

Alexander listened with respectful attention, but 
was not convinced. We cannot afford to wait,” he 
said, an invader must attack, not be attacked. But 
perhaps we shall be able to combine your policy, 
which I allow to be admirable, and mine, which I 
hold to be necessary.” 

The event justified the hope. We may attribute 
the result to good fortune ; but it was probably due 
to the extraordinary power of guessing the probable 


ON THE WRONG SIDE I39 

action of an antagonist, which was one of Alex- 
ander’s most characteristic merits as a general. 

To put the thing very briefly, the king’s idea was 
this. Let Darius once get the impression that the 
invaders were hanging back, and in his overweening 
confidence in his own superior strength, he would 
abandon his favourable position, and precipitate an 
attack. And this is exactly what happened. 

The Macedonian army was formed into two 
divisions. With one of them Parmenio hurried on 
to occupy the passes from Cilicia into Syria. There 
were strong places which might have been easily 
defended ; but it was not Darius’s policy to hinder 
the advance of an enemy whom he felt sure of being 
able to crush ; and the garrisons retired according to 
order when the Macedonian force came in sight. 

Some little time after, Alexander himself followed 
with the rest of his army, taking the same route, and 
overtaking Parmenio’s force at a place that was 
about two days’ march beyond the passes. 

And now came the extraordinary change of policy 
on the part of Darius which Alexander, with a 
sagacity that seemed almost more than human, had 
divined. The delay of the Macedonian king in 
advancing from Cilicia had produced just the 
impression which apparently it had been intended 
to produce. Darius imagined, and the imagination 
was encouraged by the flatterers who surrounded 
him, that his enemy was losing confidence, that 


140 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


though he had routed the king’s lieutenants, he 
shrank from meeting the king himself. And now 
the one prevailing idea in his mind was that the 
invader must not be permitted to escape. Accord- 
ingly, though his ablest counsellors sought to 
dissuade him, he broke up his encampment on the 
level ground which suited so admirably the opera- 
tions of his huge army, and hurried to get into the 
rear of Alexander. He blindly missed the oppor- 
tunity that was almost in his hands of cutting 
Alexander’s army in two, and took up a position 
wholly unsuited to the character of his forces, but 
which had the advantage, as he thought, of cutting 
off the enemy’s retreat. 

And now that I have explained the antecedent 
circumstances of the great struggle that followed, I 
must return to the fortunes of Charidemus and his 
friend. A rapid march performed under a burning 
sky had caused not a little sickness in the army, 
and Alexander had left his invalids at Issus, a 
delightful little town which had the advantage of 
enjoying both sea and mountain air. A detachment 
was told off to protect the place, and as Charondas 
was among the sick, Charidemus, though always 
anxious to be with the front, was not altogether 
displeased to be left in command. 

But the change in the Persian plan brought 
terrible disaster on the occupants of Issus. It was 
an unwalled town, and, even had it been strongly 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


141 

fortified, it could not have been defended by the 
couple of hundred men under Charidemus’s com- 
mand. When the Persians appeared, for it was 
naturally in their line of march, there was nothing 
for it but to capitulate and to trust to the mercy 
of the conquerors. Unhappily the Persian temper, 
always pitiless when the vanquished were con- 
cerned, had been worked up into furious rage by 
recent disasters. Many of the prisoners were 
massacred at once ; those whose lives were spared 
were cruelly mutilated, to be sent back, when the 
occasion served, to the camp of Alexander, as 
examples of the vengeance which the audacious 
invaders of Asia might expect. 

Charidemus and his Theban friend, with such 
other officers as had been captured, were brought 
before the king himself. Charondas, happily for 
himself, was recognized by a Theban exile, who had 
attached himself to the fortunes of Darius, and who 
happened to be a distant relative of his own. The 
man made an effort to save him. “ 0 king,^» he 
said, “this is a kinsman and a fellow-citizen. I saw 
him last fighting against the Macedonians. How he 
came hither I know not, but I beseech you that you 
will at least reserve him for future inquiry. Mean- 
while I will answer for his safe custody.” 

Darius, whose naturally mild temper had been 
overborne by the savage insistence of the Persian 
nobles, signified assent ; and Charondas, who had 


142 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


not been asked to renounce his allegiance, or indeed 
questioned in any way, did not feel himself con- 
strained in honour to reject the chance of escape. 

No one now remained to be dealt with but Chari- 
demus himself, who as the chief in command had 
been reserved to the last. 

“ Of what city are you ?” asked the king. 

Of Argos,” replied the prisoner, who was certainly 
glad to be able to make this answer without depart- 
ing from the truth. To have avowed that he was a 
Macedonian would probably have sealed his fate at 
once. 

And your name ? ” 

‘‘ Charidemus.” 

The king was evidently struck by this answer. 
Though he had given the order for the execution of 
the unhappy Athenian whose death has been already 
related, and, indeed, had been the first to lay hands 
upon him, the deed had been out of keeping with his 
character, and he had already repented of it. 

“ Knew you your namesake of Athens ? ” he went 
on. 

I knew him well, my lord. He was the guest- 
friend of my mother’s father.” 

Darius turned round to the Persian noble, a scion 
of one of the great Seven Houses, who stood behind 
his seat, and said, ‘‘ Keep this man safe as you value 
your own head.” 

The Persian took him by the hand, and led him to 


ON THE WRONG SIDE I43 

the king’s quarters, where he committed him to the 
safe keeping of his own personal attendants. 

The next morning the army resumed its march, 
following the same route that had been taken a few 
days before, but in an opposite direction, by Alex- 
ander, crossed the Pinarus, a small stream which 
here runs a short course, from the mountains to 
the sea, and encamped on its further or northern 
shore. 

Though the young Macedonian’s life had been 
saved for the moment, he was still in imminent 
danger. The clemency of the king had not approved 
itself to his courtiers, though the habit of obedience 
had prevented them from questioning his orders. 
Indeed all the Greeks about the royal person were 
regarded by the Persian nobles with jealousy and 
suspicion. So strong were these feelings that Darius, 
though himself retaining full confidence in their 
attachment and fidelity, thought it best to send them 
all away before the anticipated battle should take 
place. They were accordingly despatched under the 
protection of a strong detachment of troops of their 
own nation to Damascus, whither a great portion of 
the royal treasure and of the large retinue which 
was accustomed to follow the Persian king had 
been already sent. Charondas of course accom- 
panied his Theban kinsman, while Charidemus 
remained under the immediate protection of the 
king. 


144 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


Alexander, when his scouts brought in the in- 
telligence of the Persian movement in his own 
rear, had hardly been able to believe that his antici- 
pations had been so speedily and so completely ful- 
filled. That Darius would leave his position on the 
plain he had hoped ; that he would crowd his enor- 
mous forces into a place where not a third of them 
could possibly be used, seemed almost beyond belief. 
Yet it was undoubtedly true. A light galley was 
sent out from the shore to reconnoitre, and what 
the sailors saw fully confirmed the news. Across 
the bay of Issus was a distance of little more than 
ten miles, though the way by land between the two 
armies may have been nearly double as much, and it 
was easy to descry the thronging multitudes of the 
Persian host, crowding, as far as could be seen, the 
whole space between the mountain and the sea. The 
day was now far advanced. But Alexander would 
not lose an hour in seizing the great opportunity 
thrown in his way. The soldiers were ordered to 
take their evening meal at once, and to be ready to 
march afterwards. 

It is, however, with the preparations of the Persians 
that we are now concerned. Informed of the ap- 
proach of Alexander, and perhaps somewhat shaken 
in his confidence by the news, Darius resolved to 
await the attack where he was, that is, behind the 
stream of the Pinarus. His main line was formed 
of ninety thousand heavy-armed infantry. A third 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


145 


o{ these were Greek mercenaries, and occupied the 
centre ; the rest were Asiatics armed in Greek 
fashion. Darius himself took his place in the centre 
behind his Greek troops. It was in them, after all, 
notwithstanding the jealousy of his nobles, that he 
put his chief confidence. The cavalry were massed 
on the right wing, that end of the line which was 
nearest to the sea, for there alone was there any 
ground suitable for their action. On the left wing, 
reaching far up the mountain side, were twenty 
thousand light-armed troops who were to throw 
themselves on the flank of the Macedonians when 
they should attempt to cross the stream. Of these, 
indeed, nothing more need be said. They did not 
attempt to make the movement which had been 
assigned to them ; but remained inactive, easily held 
in check by a handful of cavalry which was detached 
to watch them. Behind this line of battle, number- 
ing, it will have been seen, somewhat more than a 
hundred thousand men, stood a mixed multitude, 
swept together from all the provinces of the vast 
Persian Empire. This mass of combatants, if they 
may be so called, already unwieldy, received the 
addition of fifty thousand troops, who had been sent 
to the southern bank to cover the formation of the 
line, and who were brought back when this formation 
was completed. There was no room for them in the 
line, and they were crowded into the endless multi- 
tude behind. 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


146 

It was a novel experience for Charidemus to watch, 
as he was compelled to do from his place behind the 
chariot of Darius, the advance of the Macedonian 
army. He saw them halted for a brief rest, and 
watched the men as they took their morning meal. 
Then again he saw them move forward at a slow 
pace, preserving an admirable regularity of line. 
Never before had he had such an opportunity of 
observing the solidity of their formation ; never 
before had he been so impressed with the conviction 
of their irresistible strength. Finally, when the front 
line had come within a bowshot of the river he ob- 
served Alexander himself gallop forward on his 
famous charger, turn with an animated gesture to 
the line behind him, and advance at a gallop, 
followed by the cavalry and light-armed foot, while 
the phalanx moved more slowly on, so as not to 
disturb the regularity of array on which its strength 
so much depended. 

The terror which this rapid movement caused in 
the Persian left cannot be described. It was all the 
more startling because the Macedonian advance had 
before seemed slow and even hesitating. Nothing 
less than a panic set in among the troops against 
whom this sudden attack was delivered. The heavy- 
armed Asiatics had the equipment and, in a degree, 
the discipline of European troops, but they wanted 
their coolness and steadfastness. Before they had 
felt the thrust of a pike, or the blow of a sword, 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


147 


before even a missile had reached them, they 
wavered, broke, and turned to fly. The huge multi- 
tude behind them caught the infection of panic. So 
narrow was the space in which they had been 
crowded together that movement was almost impos- 
sible. A scene of frightful terror and confusion 
followed. The fugitives struggled fiercely with each 
other — had they shown as much energy in resisting 
the enemy, they might have changed the fortune of 
the day. They pushed aside the weak, they trampled 
pitilessly on the fallen. In less than half an hour 
from the beginning of the Macedonian charge the 
whole of the left wing of the Persians was a dis- 
organized, helpless mass. It is true that the rest of 
the army did not show the same shameful cowardice. 
The Greeks in the centre stood their ground bravely, 
and held the division that attacked them in check 
for some time. Then assailed in the rear by the 
Macedonian right returning from their own easy 
victory, they cut their way through the opposing 
lines and made good their escape. The Persian 
cavalry on the right wing also behaved with courage, 
crossing the river, and charging the Thessalian 
horse on the Macedonian left. But the miserable 
weakness of the Persian king rendered all their 
bravery unavailing. When he saw the line of the 
Asiatic heavy* armed waver and break, and perceived 
that his own person was in danger, he turned pre- 
cipitately to flee, and his escort of cavalry followed 


148 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


him, Charidemus being swept away by the rush, 
without having a chance to extricate himself. Before 
long the ground became so rough that the chariot 
had to be abandoned, and the king mounted on 
horseback, leaving in his hurry his shield and bow 
behind him. The flight was continued at the fullest 
speed to which the horses could be put till the king 
felt sure that for the time at least he was safe from 
pursuit. He then called a halt, and made his dis- 
position for the future. His own destination was 
Thapsacus,^ where there was a ford over the 
Euphrates, and whence he would make his way to 
Babylon. The greater part of the escort, of course, 
accompanied him. The young Persian noble, 
Artabazus by name, to whose charge Charidemus 
had been committed, was to make his way to 
Damascus, with instructions for the officers who had 
been left there in charge of the treasure and retinue. 
To the young Macedonian the king addressed a few 
words of farewell. Truly,” he said, the Athenian 
is avenged already. Well ; I seem to owe you some- 
thing for his sake. Take this ring,” and he drew, as 
he spoke, a signet-ring from his finger. It may help 
you in need ; perhaps, too, you will have the chance 
of helping some whom I cannot help. My wife and 
child are, doubtless by this time, in your king’s 
hands, for they can hardly have escaped. I can trust 


* The modern Thipsach (the Passage), 


ON THE WRONG SIDE 


149 


him. But there are others whom you may find at 
Damascus. When they see this ring it will be proof 
that they may put faith in you.” Then turning to 
Artabazus, he went on, ‘‘Guard this man’s life as 
you would your own.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


DAMASCUS 

Whether Charidemus would have reached his des- 
tination in safety in the company of his Persian 
guardians may well be doubted. Artabazus himself 
seemed well disposed to him. The young noble had 
spent some time in Greece, having been attached to 
more than one embassy sent to that country, spoke 
the language with ease and fluency, and had at least 
some outside polish of Hellenic culture. But the 
troopers were genuine barbarians, exasperated to the 
last degree by their recent defeat, who would have 
had little scruple in wreaking their vengeance on 
unprotected Greeks. Happily for Charidemus, he 
was not long exposed to the dangers of the journey. 
Alexander, with his usual energy, had already taken 
measures to secure Damascus. Parmenio was 
instructed to push forward to that city, where it was 
well known that an immense spoil awaited the con- 
querors. The treasure captured in the Persian camp 
had not been very large ^ ; the bulk had been left in 

* Three thousand talents, equivalent to about ;^ 600 , 000 . 


DAMASCUS 15I 

Syria, and it was important to get hold of it with- 
out delay. 

Parmenio lost no time in executing his com- 
mission. His main body would require two or three 
days’ preparation before it could march; but some 
light horse was sent on at once to cut off any 
fugitives who might be making their way from the 
field of Issus to, the Syrian capital. It was at one of 
the fords of the Upper Orontes that this detach- 
ment came in sight of Artabazus and his companions. 
The river had been swollen by a heavy fall of rain 
among the hills, and was rolling down in a turbid 
and dangerous-looking stream. The troopers, catch- 
ing sight of the Macedonian cavalry, as it came in 
sight over the brow of a neighbouring hill, rushed 
helter-skelter into the ford, without giving a thought 
either to their chief or their prisoner. The leader’s 
horse, a young untrained animal, refused to enter the 
water. Twice, thrice was he brought to the brink, 
but he could not be induced to go in. Meanwhile 
the pursuers had come within a stone’s-throw of the 
water. Artabazus saw that escape was hopeless, 
and he disdained to surrender. He turned his horse 
from the stream, drew his scymetar from its gilded 
sheath, and threw himself furiously upon the nearest 
horseman. The man raised his shield to ward off 
the blow, but the good Damascus blade sheared off 
three or four inches of the tough bull’s hide, and 
inflicted a deadly wound on the spot so often fatal. 


13 ^ 


DAMASCUS 


where the lappet of the helmet joined the coat-of- 
mail. The next moment the Persian’s horse was 
brought to the ground by the thrust of a lance, and 
the rider, as he lay entangled in its trappings, 
received a mortal wound from a second blow of the 
same weapon. 

Charidemus, who had been sitting on his horse, a 
passive spectator of the scene just described, now 
came forward to report himself to the officer in 
command. There was no need, he found, to explain 
who he was, for the officer happened to be an old 
acquaintance, and warmly congratulated him on his 
escape. ‘‘ Many thanks,” said Charidemus, ‘‘ but 
see whether you cannot save your prisoner there 
alive. He is of one of the Seven Houses, and should 
be worth a ransom almost royal.” 

The officer leapt from his horse, and examined the 
prostrate man. ‘‘ He is past all help,” was the 
verdict, after a brief examination, ‘‘ Not iEsculapius 
himself could heal him. But he seems to want to 
speak to you ; I thought I heard him whisper your 
name.” 

In a moment Charidemus was on his knees by the 
dying man’s side, and put his ear to his lips. The 
words that he caught were these : ‘‘ Damascus — 

the street of the coppersmiths — Manasseh the Jew.” 
With that his utterance failed ; there were a few 
convulsive gasps for breath, a faint shiver, and then 
all was over. 


DAMASCUS 


153 


It was not a time for much funeral ceremony. A 
shallow grave was scooped in the sand by the river 
side, and the body, stripped of armour and weapons, 
but allowed to retain cloak, tunic, and sandals, was 
hastily covered over. All the valuables that were 
found upon the dead were considered to be the booty 
of the troop ; but Charidemus purchased a bracelet, 
a chain, and a ring. He could not help thinking 
that the dying man had wished to entrust some 
commission to him. These articles might at least 
help to identify him. 

After crossing the Orontes, the party halted for the 
night, and by the bivouac-lire Charidemus told his 
story, and heard, in his turn, many particulars of the 
great fight which it had been his strange fortune to 
see from the side of the vanquished. ‘‘We gave you 
up for lost,” said his new companion, who, by the 
way, was no less distinguished a person than 
Philotas, son of Parmenio. “A few poor wretches 
found their way back into the camp ; but those 
brute-like barbarians had shorn off noses, ears, and 
hands. Many died of loss of blood on the way, and 
some only just lived long enough to get within the 
lines. The survivors told us that all the officers had 
been killed. But you seem a special favourite of the 
gods. They must surely be keeping you for some- 
thing great. And your Theban friend — what of him ? 
I hope that Pylades escaped as well as Orestes.” 

“ Yes, by good luck,” said Charidemus, “a Theban 


154 


DAMASCUS 


exile who was with Darius recognized him, and 
saved his life. He is, I take it, at Damascus by this 
time.** 

Where we shall soon find him, I hope,*’ returned 
Philotas. ‘‘That is the place we are bound for; 
and if the stories that the deserters tell us are only 
half true, we shall have rare sport then. My father 
is in command of the main body ; but we will take 
care to keep well ahead of the old man, and have 
the first sight of the good things.” 

The party had yet more than two hundred miles 
to ride before reaching their journey’s end. Weak 
as they were — for they did not number in all more 
than two hundred men — they pushed on in supreme 
indifference to any possible danger. Danger indeed 
there was none. The country was stripped of troops, 
for every available soldier had been swept off by the 
levies to swell the host that had been gathered only 
to be scattered to the winds at Issus. A few indeed 
had found their way back, but these were glad to 
bury their weapons, and to forget that they had ever 
wielded them for so unlucky a cause. As for raising 
them again against these wonderful warriors from 
the west, before whom the armies of the Great King 
had melted as snow melts in the sun, that would 
be madness indeed. Philotas’s party met with no 
opposition ; indeed, as far as the Syrian population 
showed any feeling at all, the new-comers seemed to 
be welcomed. The Persians had not made them- 


DAMASCUS 155 

selves beloved, and a change of masters might, it 
was felt, be a change for the better. 

It was about a fortnight after crossing the Orontes 
that the detachment came in sight of Damascus. 
They were gazing with delight, as so many travellers 
have gazed, at the City of Gardens, when a Syrian 
lad came up to the party, and contrived with some 
difficulty to make them understand that he had a 
message to deliver to their chief. Accordingly he 
was conducted into the presence of Philotas, and 
put into his hands a small roll of paper. It proved 
to be a communication from the Persian governor of 
Damascus. The lad, when further questioned by the 
help of a peasant who acted as interpreter, said that 
he had been sent with orders to deliver the letter into 
the hands of the first Macedonian officer whom he 
might be able to find. It was thus : — 

‘‘ OxathreSy Governor of Damascus, to the Lieutenant 
of the Great and Victorious Alexander, into whose hands 
this may fall. Zeeinr^ that the Gods have so manifestly 
declared that they adjudge the kingdom of Asia to the 
great Alexander, it becomes the duty of all their dutiful 
servants and worshippers to respect their decree. Know, 
therefore, that great treasures of King Darius, lately 
deposited by him in this city of Damascus, are now about 
to be conveyed away by certain disloyal and ill-disposed 
persons by way of Tadmor.^' 

** We shall have plenty of time to cut them off,” 


DAMASCUS 


156 

remarked Philotas on reading the communication, 
‘‘for they have the longer distance to travel, and 
must move slowly. How will they travel, Philip ? ” 
he went on, addressing a sub-officer, who had been 
in the country before. 

“ If they go by way of Tadmor,^’ replied the man, 
“ they must cross the desert, and will use camels ; 
we had best be beforehand with them, before they 
get far on the way.’’ 

Philotas accordingly gave orders to his troop to 
start immediately. They took an eastward direction, 
and by sunset had reached a point on the road which 
would necessarily have to be passed by a caravan 
journeying from Damascus. The keeper of the inn, 
one of the shelters for travellers which the Persian 
Government had provided along the principal roads, 
informed them that nothing of the kind described 
had as yet passed. 

It was about sunset next day before the caravan 
appeared. It was accompanied by a small escort of 
Persian soldiers, who, however, made no attempt to 
defend their charge. Indeed, they showed so little 
surprise or alarm at the appearance of the Mace- 
donian troops that Philotas could hardly help sus- 
pecting that the whole business had been contrived, 
the removal of the treasure being only a feint, by 
means of which the governor of the city hoped to 
get some credit with his new masters. The packages 
with which the animals were loaded bore the royal 


DAMASCUS 


157 


seal. These Philotas thought it best not to disturb. 
The Persian soldiers were disarmed, and, as it would 
cause the party inconvenient delay were they to be 
encumbered with prisoners, dismissed. They gave a 
promise not to serve again, and as they were all of 
the unwarlike Syrian race, were very likely to keep it. 
The caravan was then turned back by the way on 
which it had come, and Damascus was reached 
without any further incident. 

Philotas had been right when he anticipated that 
the city would be a prey of extraordinary richness. 
The camp which had fallen into the hands of the 
conquerors at Issus had seemed to these simple and 
frugal soldiers the ne plus ultra of luxury, while 
Darius and his nobles probably fancied that they had 
limited what they had brought with them to the very 
narrowest and most necessary requirements in furni- 
ture and followers. It was at Damascus that the 
invaders discovered in what sort of state the Great 
King travelled when he was not actually in the face 
of the enemy. There was a vast amount of gold,^ 
though this was small in comparison with what 
afterwards fell into Alexander’s hands ; but it was the 
extraordinary number of ministers to the pleasures 
of the court that struck the new-comers with as- 


* At Susa fifty thousand talents, or about ;£’ii, 5 cx),ooo, were found ; 
at Persepolis one hundred and twenty thousand, or £2^^600^000 ; huge 
sums, but nevertheless not equal to the amounts held in bullion and coin 
by the Banks of England and France. 


158 


DAMASCUS 


tonishment. Parmenio, giving a catalogue of his 
captures to the king, enumerates the following : 

329 Singing-girls. 

46 Male chaplet-makers. 

77 Cooks. 

29 Kitchen-helpers, perhaps turnspits pot- 
boilers is the word in the original). 

13 Makers of milk puddings. 

17 Strainers of wine. 

40 Perfume makers. 

And these belonged to the royal establishment alone ! 
The great nobles had establishments, not, indeed, on 
so large a scale, but still incredibly magnificent and 
costly. The booty in treasure and slaves that was 
at the disposal of the conquerors was simply beyond 
all reckoning. 

After an interview with the governor, whom he 
thanked with perfect gravity for his timely communi- 
cation, Philotas thought it better to encamp his men 
outside the city, and there await the arrival of the 
main body under his father. Some disaster might 
happen if he allowed his frugal campaigners free 
access to a place so full of temptations. 

Charidemus, who indeed was not strictly under 
his command, was not prevented from visiting the 
city. His first inquiries were for Charondas, whom 
he found in the company of his compatriot, and 


DAMASCUS isg 

whose release from the nominal custody in which he 
had been kept he obtained without difficulty. 

He had not, we may be sure, forgotten Barsine, 
and, still less, the young Clearista ; and he had good 
reason for believing that they were both in Damascus. 
Memnon, he remembered, had spoken of sending his 
wife and his niece to Susa, nominally as hostages, 
really to remove them as far as possible from the 
scene of war. Doubtless this had been done. But 
Darius, he heard, had carried the hostages with him 
in his train, and when he had resolved to risk a 
battle, had sent them to Damascus. The difficulty 
was in finding them. Not only was the city so 
crowded with the harems of the great Persian nobles 
that the search would in any case have been difficult, 
but it was impossible to ask questions. The Persians 
shut up their wives and daughters with a jealous 
care, and the Greeks about the Court had adopted 
their customs. Even intimate friends never spoke to 
each other about the women of their families. For 
two young soldiers to go about making inquiries 
about certain high-born ladies was a thing not to be 
thought of. If they were so rash as to do it, they 
certainly would get no answer. The idea of meeting 
them in public only suggested itself to be put aside. 
At any time it would have been most unlikely. 
Ladies of high rank never went out but in carriages, 
and then they were closely veiled. As things were 
then, with an invading army in possession of the 


i6o 




town, it was extremely unlikely that they would go 
out at all. 

Once, indeed, our hero fancied that chance had 
given him a clue. The two friends had wandered 
down a lane shaded on either side by the trees that 
overhung it from two high-walled gardens, and 
leading down to one of the streams that make 
Damascus a mass of greenery. A flash of some- 
thing bright moving amidst the foliage of the trees 
caught the eye of Charidemus. It disappeared, and 
then again became visible, to disappear once more as 
quickly. It was a minute or two before the young 
man realized that what he saw shining so brightly in 
the sunshine was the hair of a girl who was swinging 
between two trees. More he could not see from 
where he stood, or from any part of the lane, so 
thick, except in one small spot, was the foliage. 
Even to climb the wall would not have served him. 
But the glimpse was enough. Charondas was both 
incredulous and amused when his friend asserted 
that this particular tint of auburn was to be found 
on no head throughout Persia and Greece save on 
Clearista's alone. They were arguing the point 
when a huge negro, carrying some gardening tools, 
issued from a door in the wall of the opposite 
garden. He made a clumsy salutation to the two 
young soldiers, but eyed them with an expression of 
suspicion and dislike. The next time, and that was 
not later than the following day, that the friends 



THE SWING. 







i 


I 




r 


\ 


V *, 







DAMASCUS 


l6l 

Sought to make their way to the same spot, they 
found the entrance to the lane barred by a quite 
impracticable gate. That flash of auburn hair in 
the sunshine might have been a clue ; but if so, the 
clue seemed to have been lost. 


CHAPTER XIV 


MANASSEH THE JEW 

The two friends had been talking after their supper 
about the repulse of the morning, and were now 
musing over the problem before them in a perplexed 
silence, when Charidemus started up from his seat, 
and brought down his hand with an emphatic blow 
upon the table. ‘‘ I have it,” he cried, ‘‘ Manasseh 
the Jew ! ” 

Charondas had heard the story of the combat by 
the ford of the Orontes, and of the confidence, or 
what, if time had allowed, would have been the 
confidence, of the dying Persian ; but he did not see 
the connection of the name with the subject of their 
discussion. How can the Jew serve you ? ” he 
said. 

‘‘ I am told,” answered Charidemus, ‘‘ that the 
Jew knows everything. Anyhow I feel that I have 
got hold of a clue. I am driven to despair by having 
to climb up what I may call a perfectly blank wall, 
without a single crevice or crack to put my foot in. 
Here is something that may give me a hold. This 


MANASSEH THE JEW 


163 


Manasseh is doubtless a man of some importance, 
one who has dealings with great people. What 
Artabazus wanted me to do for him, what I am to 
say to Manasseh, or Manasseh is to say to me, I 
have not an idea. But still I feel that there is 
something. There will be some kind of relation 
between us ; he will recognize the chain and brace- 
let ; he will see that Artabazus trusted me. Perhaps 
I shall be able to help him, and perhaps he will be 
able to help me. Anyhow I shall go.” 

And you had better go alone,” suggested 
Charondas. 

Perhaps so,” replied the Macedonian. 

It was not difficult to find Manasseh. The Jews 
had a quarter of their own in Damascus which they 
had occupied, though not, it may be supposed, 
without some interruptions, for several centuries.^ 
In this quarter Manasseh was one of the leading 
inhabitants, and Charidemus was at once directed to 
his dwelling. The exterior of the Damascus houses 
seldom gave much idea of what the interior was like. 
You entered by an unpretending door in a mean- 
looking front, and found something like a palace 
within. Manasseh’s dwelling surprised the visitor 
in this way. It was built round a spacious quad- 
rangle, in the centre of which a fountain played, 

' Since Ahab (about 900 B.c.) had made peace with Benhadad, King 
of Syria, on condition that he should have “ streets ” in Damascus, as 
Benhadad’s father had had them in Samaria. 


164 


MANASSEH THE JEW 


surrounded by orange, pomegranate, and myrtle 
trees. The ground floor of the building was occu- 
pied by a colonnade. Above this was the apartment 
of the family, furnished with a splendour and wealth 
known only to a few. Chance comers and visitors 
on business Manasseh the Jew was accustomed to 
see in a plainly-furnished room close to the gate. 
The Jews were even then beginning to learn that 
painful lesson of prudence as regarded the display of 
their wealth which afterwards they had so many 
reasons to practise. 

Manasseh was civil to his visitor, whom, from a 
hasty survey of his person, he conjectured to be an 
impecunious young officer, whose object was to 
borrow some money, for the Jews had already begun 
to follow the trade of money-lender. When Chari- 
demus produced the chain and bracelets which had 
belonged to Artabazus, Manasseh’s first impression 
was that they were articles offered by way of 
security for an advance. He took them up in a 
careless way to examine them, but his look and 
manner changed at a nearer inspection. 

‘‘ How came you by these ? ” he asked, and his 
voice was stern and even menacing. 

The Macedonian told the story with which my 
readers are already acquainted. “ What more Arta- 
bazus would have told me,” he went on to say, I 
know not. He had only strength to utter your 
name, and the place where I might find you. But 


MANASSEH THE yEW 165 

I felt bound to come. It was clear that for some 
reason he wished it ; and it was the least I could do 
for him.’' 

You have done well, sir,” said the Jew. Pardon 
me if I had harsher thoughts of you. And now, let 
me think.” 

Manasseh walked up and down the room several 
times in an agitation that contrasted strangely 
enough with the cool and business-like air which he 
had worn at the beginning of the interview. Then 
he paused. 

‘‘Young man,” he said, “you are not, I know, of 
my faith, and I cannot ask you, as I would ask one 
of my own race, to swear by the God of Israel. But 
I have lived long enough among the Gentiles to 
know that there are oaths which bind them as surely 
as to swear by the Lord binds a son of Abraham. 
And I have learnt, too, that there is among them, 
even as there is among us, that which is stronger 
than all oaths, the sense of right and truth in the 
the heart. I believe that you are one of those who 
have this sense ; I seem to see it in your face ; you 
have shown it by coming here to-day on this errand. 
A man who keeps his word to the dead will not break 
it to the living. I will trust you. And now listen to 
my story. The dead man whose chain and bracelets 
you have brought here to-day was, I may say, my 
friend. Between his race and mine there has been 
a close tie for many generations. He, indeed, as I 


l66 MANASSEH THE yEW 

dare say you know, was of one of the noblest houses 
of Persia, and we were of the captivity of Judah. 
Still my fathers have done some service for his in 
times past, as, indeed, his have done for mine. You 
would not care to hear how it was ; but, believe me, 
it was so. We of the house of Israel can some- 
times do more than the world would think. But 
enough of this ; let me go on to that which concerns 
the present. The sister of this Artabazus is Barsin6, 
who was the wife and is the widow of Memnon the 
Rhodian.” 

Charidemus gave an unmistakeable start when he 
heard the name. 

“ What ! ” cried the Jew, ‘‘ you know her ? ” 

Charidemus in as few words as possible related 
how he had been taken prisoner at Halicarnassus, 
and had there made the acquaintance of Memnon 
and his family. 

The Jew’s face lighted up when he heard it. You 
make my task easier. I now feel that I can speak 
to you, not only as to a man of honour, but as to a 
friend. When Memnon sent his wife and his niece 
— you saw the niece ? ” 

The young man assented, not without the con- 
sciousness of a blush. 

‘‘ When Memnon sent his wife and niece to court, 
Artabazus made interest with the king that they 
should be allowed to reside here in Damascus, rather 
than at Susa. The climate was better, and there 


MANASSEH THE yEW 


167 


were other reasons. I may tell you, though I dare 
say you had an opportunity of seeing so much for 
yourself, that Artabazus, like his sister, had had a 
Greek bringing up, and that there were some things 
in Persian ways that did not please him or her. 
Well, being in high favour with the king, he got his 
request. Barsin6 and the girl were sent to this city 
her brother making himself responsible for them. I 
found a home for them ; and I have managed their 
affairs. A few weeks since the king, as you know, 
sent all his harem here, all his hostages and guests, 
in fact, all his establishment of every sort and kind. 
Then came his defeat at Issus, and now everything 
belongs to the conquerors. I had hoped that Barsine 
and her niece might have lived quietly here till these 
troubles were passed. If all this crowd of men and 
women and slaves had been left at Susa it might 
have been so. But the situation is changed. They 
too must be included in any list of the prisoners that 
have come into the possession of your king. I have 
been thinking over the matter long and anxiously. 
Once or twice it has occurred to me to send them 
away. But whither was I to send them ? What 
place is out of the reach of your arms ? ’’ 

He paused, overpowered by the perplexities of the 
situation. “God of Israel,” he cried, “what am I 
to do ? ” 

“ What says the Lady Barsin6 herself ? inter- 
posed the Macedonian. “ I judged her, when I was 


7:68 MANASSEH THE JEW 

in her company, to be one who could very well think 
for herself.” 

She is so,” said Manasseh, ‘‘ and in any case she 
must be told of her brother’s death. Come to me 
again, if you will, in two days’ time, and come after 
dark. It is as well to be secret.” 

Charidemus took his leave, just a little touched in 
conscience by the Jew’s praises. He felt that he had 
gone on an errand of his own, in which, indeed, he 
had succeeded beyond all his hopes ; and he was 
ashamed to be praised for a loyalty to the dead 
which had certainly been quite second in his 
thoughts. 

He did not fail, it may be supposed, to present 
himself at the appointed time. The Jew greeted 
him warmly, and said, The Lady Barsine wishes to 
see you. Let us go ; but not by the street. It would 
be well that neither you nor I should be seen.” 

He led the way into the garden. There was light 
enough, the moon having now risen, for Charidemus 
to catch a glimpse of spacious lawns, terraces orna- 
mented with marble urns and balustrades, and trees 
of a stately growth. His guide conducted him down 
a long avenue of laurel, and another of myrtle, that 
ran at right angles with the first. At the end of the 
second they came to a small door in the wall. This 
brought them into a lane which the Macedonian 
seemed to recognize, so far as was possible in so 
different a light, as that into which he and his com- 


MANASSEH THE JEW 1 69 

panion had strayed three days before. Almost facing 
the gate by which they had gone out was another in 
the opposite wall. This opened into another garden, 
arranged similarly to that which they had just left, 
but much smaller. The house had no front to the 
street, but stood pavilionwise in the centre of the 
enclosure. Manasseh knocked, or rather kicked, at 
a small postern door. When this had been cautiously 
opened a few inches, the bolts having been with- 
drawn but the chain remaining fastened, the Jew 
gave his name, which was evidently a sufficient pass- 
word, the chain being immediately withdrawn by the 
porter. 

‘‘ The Lady Barsine awaits you,” said the man, 
and led the way down a richly carpeted passage on 
which their footsteps fell in perfect silence, to a room 
which was evidently the library. By the side of the 
hearth, on which a small fire of cedar-wood was 
burning, was a chair of ebony richly inlaid with ivory. 
Close to this stood a citron table, on which was a 
silver lamp and a roll of manuscript, which a curious 
eye might have found to be the “ Dirges ” of Pindar. 
Book-cases and busts were ranged round the walls, 
which were hung with embroidery representing the 
contest of Athena and Poseidon, a design copied 
from the West Pediment of the Parthenon. One 
wall of the room, however, was occupied by a replica 
of Protogenes’s great masterpiece, “ The Piping 
Satyr.” 


170 


MANASSEH THE yEW 


The room was empty when the two visitors were 
shown into it ; but in the course of a few minutes 
Barsin6 appeared. Grief had robbed her of the 
brilliant bloom of her beauty, but had given to her 
face a new and more spiritual expression. When 
Charidemus last saw her she might have been a 
painter’s model for Helen, a Helen, that is, who 
had not learnt to prefer a lover to a husband ; now 
she was the ideal of an Andromache. She caught 
hold of Manasseh’s hand, and lifted it to her lips, and 
then turned to greet his companion. She had been 
prepared for his coming, but the sight of him over- 
came her self-control. She was not one of the women 
who sob and cry aloud. Persian though she was — 
and the Persians were peculiarly vehement in the 
expression of their grief — she had something of a 
Spartan fortitude ; but she could not keep back the 
big tears that rolled silently down her cheeks. 

“ It is a sad pleasure to see you,” she said at last, 
addressing the Macedonian, when she had recovered 
her voice. “ My Memnon liked you well ; he often 
spoke of you after you left us ; and now I find that 
my dear brother liked you and trusted you also. I 
know you will help me if you can. Have you any 
counsel to give to the most unhappy of women ? ” 

“ Alexander,” said the Macedonian, “ is the most 
generous of conquerors. I would say. Appeal to his 
clemency and compassion. I know that he respected 
and admired your husband. I have heard him say 


MANASSEH THE ^EW 


171 

— for he has often deigned to talk of such things 
with me — that Memnon was the only adversary that 
he feared in all Asia, ‘ Whether or no I am an 
Achilles * — these, lady, were his very words — ‘ he is 
certainly a Hector.’ Go to him, then, I say — he 
comes to-morrow or the next day — throw yourself at 
his feet. Believe me, you will not repent of it.” 

“ Oh, sir,” cried the unhappy woman, “ that is 
hard advice for the widow of Memnon and the 
daughter of Artabazus to follow. To grovel before 
him on the ground as though I were a slave ! It is 
more than I can bear. Oh ! cannot I fly from him 
to some safe place? Tell me, father,” and she 
caught Manasseh’s hand, ‘^you know everything, 
“ tell me whither I can go. Should I not be out of 
his reach in Tyre ? ” 

Lady,” said Manasseh, ‘‘ I have put this question 
to myself many times, and have not found an answer. 
I do not know how you can escape from him. As 
for Tyre, I am not even sure that it will attempt to 
stand out against him ; but I am sure that if it does 
it will bitterly repent it. She repented of having 
stood out against Nebuchadnezzar,^ and Nebuchad- 
nezzar is to this man as a vulture is to an eagle. 

* Tyre stood a siege of nearly thirteen years from Nebuchadnezzar’s 
army, but was at last compelled to capitulate. “Her prestige and her 
commerce dwindled ; she was not allowed to rebuild her suburb upon 
the mainland (Palae-tyrus), which remained in ruins till the time of 
Alexander ; and she lost for a time the leading position among Phoe- 
nician cities, which seems to have passed to Sidon.” (Professor 
Rawlinson’s “Phoenicia,” pp. 173-4.) 


172 


MANASSEH THE ^EW 


And there are words, too, in our sacred books which 
make me think that an evil time is coming for her. 
No ! I would say. Do not trust yourself to Tyre. 
And would you gain if you fled to the outer bar- 
barians, to those that dwell by the fountains of the 
Nile, if you could reach them, or to the Arabs? 
Would they treat you, think you, better than he, 
who is at least half a Greek ? ** 

Let me think,’’ cried Barsin6, “ let me have 
time.” 

'‘Yes,” said Manasseh, “ but not so much time as 
would rob your supplication of all its grace. Go to 
him as a suppliant ; let him not claim you as a 
prisoner.” 

Some little talk on other matters followed ; but 
the conversation languished, and it was not long 
before the visitors took their leave. 


CHAPTER XV 


ANDROMACHE 

The next night Manasseh and Charidemus pre- 
sented themselves at Barsine’s house. Both men 
were extremely anxious. Further delay, they felt, 
was impossible. Any hour the unhappy lady might 
find whatever chance she had irretrievably lost. 
They did not augur well for her decision that she 
kept them waiting for nearly an hour after their 
coming had been announced to her; nor from her 
first words when at last she appeared. 

The Macedonian has not yet come, has he ? ” she 
asked. 

‘‘ Madam, ” replied Charidemus, “ the king 
arrived this afternoon.” 

She wrung her hands in silence. 

‘‘And to-morrow the governor of the city will 
present him with the list of the property and persons 
left here by King Darius. This will be compared 
with the list already made by Parmenio.” 

“ But my name may not be in it,” she eagerly 
interposed. 


174 


ANDROMACHE 


Madam,” said Manasseh, do not flatter your- 
self with such a hope. The widow of the man who 
commanded the Great King's forces is far too im- 
portant a person to be forgotten. You may depend 
upon it that there is no one in the whole kingdom, 
except, it may be, the wife and child of Darius him- 
self, whom the king is more bent on getting into his 
possession than the widow of Memnon the Rhodian.” 

It is so, madam,” broke in Charidemus ; nay, 
I know that your name is in Parmenio's list, for 
Philotas his son showed it me. I entreat you to act 
without delay. You should have seen the king on 
his first arrival. To-night it is impossible. But go 
to-morrow, as early as may be, before he sees the list 
— and he begins business betimes — that you may still 
seem to have given yourself up of your own accord.” 

Barsine made no answer, but paced up and down 
the room in uncontrollable agitation. At last she 
addressed the Macedonian. 

‘‘ You know him ; you do not speak by hearsay, or 
as courtiers who flatter a king ? ” 

Madam,” replied Charidemus, I have seen 
him at times when men show their real selves — at 
the banquet and in the battle-field.” 

‘‘ And he is merciful and generous ? Strong he is 
and valiant, I know. My Memnon used to say that 
he had not his match in the world, and he had seen 
him fight. But he is one, you say, who can have 
compassion also, who can pity the suppliant ? ” 


a^dromacUe t 75 

Madam/* said the young man, I believe from 
my heart that he is.” 

‘‘Then I will go to him; I will throw myself at 
his feet ; I will implore his compassion for myself 
and my children.’* 

“ There shall be no need for you to do so, lady,** 
said a voice from the other end of the room. 

At the same time the tapestry that covered another 
door was moved apart, and Alexander himself stood 
before them. He was unarmed, except for a light 
cuirass of richly gilded steel and a sword. His head 
was uncovered ; his hair, which he wore long after the 
fashion of the heroic age, fell in golden curls about 
his neck. His face, with lustrous deep-blue eyes, 
features chiselled after the purest Greek type, and 
fair complexion just now flushed with a delicate rose, 
was of a beauty singularly attractive. 

So unexpected, so startling was the sight that 
Manasseh and his young companion could only stare 
in mute astonishment. Charidemus, as became his 
soldierly instincts and habits, was the first to recover 
his self-possession. He stood at attention, and 
saluted. Barsine covered her face with her hands. 

Alexander gazed at the scene with a smile, enjoy- 
ing, one may believe, with a certain satisfaction the 
astonishment that his appearance had caused. After 
a brief silence he spoke again. I thank you, vene- 
rable sir,” he began, addressing himself to Manasseh, 
“for the words of truth that you have uttered, and 


ANDROMACm 


176 

the admirable advice that you have given to the Lady 
Barsin6. It is true that there is no one in the 
whole kingdom of Persia whom Alexander is more 
anxious to secure than the widow of Memnon the 
Rhodian. Nor could you have given her better 
advice than that she should surrender herself to me 
of her own free will. And you, my young friend,” 
he went on, turning to Charidemus, “ you I thank 
most heartily for the praises that you have bestowed 
on my clemency. The gods grant that I may always 
be not less worthy of them than I hope I am this 
day. And now, lady, after that these gentlemen 
have spoken, as I trust, so truly of me, let me speak 
for myself. But, first, will you permit me to be 
seated ? ” 

Barsine murmured a half-audible assent, and the 
king took a chair opposite to the couch on which she 
was reclining, and signed to the Jew and Charidemus 
that they should seat themselves. They did so, first 
respectfully withdrawing to the further end of the 
room. 

The king went on : “ Lady ; you have never heard 
of me — save, it may be, from Manasseh and Charide- 
mus here — but as of an enemy, though I trust 
you have heard no evil ; let me now speak as a 
friend. Your husband fought against me ; it was 
not the will of the gods that he should succeed. 
Therefore they first blinded the eyes of King Darius 
so that he could not see the wisdom of his counsel ; 


ANDROMACHE 


177 


and then they shortened his days. Had he lived I 
could not have been here to-day. But would it have 
been well that he should succeed ? He was a Greek, 
but he fought for Persia. Think you that he wished 
in his heart that the Persian should triumph over 
Greece, should be lord of Athens and Sparta, of 
Delphi and Olympia ? I do not forget, lady, that 
you are Persian by birth. Yes, but you are Greek in 
soul, and you know in your heart that if one of the 
two must rule it must be the Greek. But, believe 
me, I do not come to conquer, I come to unite. 
Persians and Greeks are brothers, and, if the gods 
grant me my wish, they shall be one nation of free- 
men with me for their chief. That your king never 
could have been, nor, I may say, any Greek before me. 

This is my plan and hope ; and now, lady, for 
the part that you can take in completing and fulfill- 
ing it. I shall say it in a word. Be my wife.” 

Barsin6 was silent, and her face was still hidden 
in her hands ; but her neck flushed crimson. 

‘‘ I am abrupt and hasty,” said Alexander, kings 
must need be so when they court. It were a happier 
lot for me, if I were one who could win for himself, 
if it might be, by such means as lovers use, the heart 
of one so beautiful and so wise. Still I would have 
you look on me as one who asks rather than com- 
mands. What say you, most beautiful of women ? ” 

“ O, my lord,” stammered Barsin6, ‘‘ I am not 
worthy.” 


178 


ANDROMACHE 


‘‘ Let that be my care,” said Alexander, I know 
of none so worthy. It is only you that have the 
right to question my choice.” 

To say that Barsine was overwhelmed by the 
situation in which she found herself is to say but a 
small part of the truth. She had been so much 
occupied with the thought of whether or no she 
should appeal to Alexander’s compassion, that the 
idea of what might be the result of her appeal 
had scarcely crossed her mind. If she had been 
conscious of any definite hope, it was that she might 
be allowed to hide herself in some retirement, where 
she might educate her son. And now what a destiny 
was put at his feet ! To be the wife of the conqueror 
of Asia ! for who could doubt that he would be this ? 
She was confused, but it was not the confusion of 
dismay. She was not a broken-hearted widow whose 
heart was in her husband’s grave ; and though she 
had really loved her Memnon, as indeed he was 
worthy to be loved, life was not over for her. And 
w^hat a life seemed to be opening before her ! And 
yet it was so sudden ! And the wooing was so 
imperious ! 

My lord,” she began, ‘‘ your commands .” 

“ Said I not,” broke in the king, “ that I did not 
command, that I asked? Now, listen to me. You 
are free ; you shall do what you will. If you wish 
to depart, depart you shall ; and I will do my best 
to provide safely and well for you and yours. But 


ANDROMACHE 


179 


you must think of others. There is your son. Though 
I come of the race of Neoptolemus, I am not of his 
temper; I could not hurl a young Scamandrius from 
the wall,^ however many the comrades whom his 
father had slain. Not so; I will deal with him as it 
is fit that I should deal with Memnon’s son. He 
shall learn to be like his father in my camp. And 
your niece Clearista” (Alexander, as has been said 
before, had the faculty of knowing everything), ‘‘we 
must find some more suitable home for her. 
Perhaps our good friend Manasseh here can think of 
such. And now, farewell; I shall come again, lady, 
and ask my answer.” 

With a deep obeisance to Barsin6 he left the room; 
and Manasseh and Charidemus followed him. 

* Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, hurled the young Scamandrius or 
Astyanax, son of Hector and Andromache, from the walls of Troy. 


CHAPTER XVI 


TO JERUSALEM 

The wooing of kings is commonly successful, and 
Alexander’s courtship was no exception to the rule. 
It can hardly be said that Barsine loved him; but 
then it was not expected that she should. Her first 
marriage had been, in a great degree, a matter of 
policy. The most brilliant and able Greek of his day 
was a husband whom her father had been delighted 
to secure for her. Even the Great King had exerted 
himself to further a match which would help to 
secure so valiant a soldier for the defence of his 
throne. She had come to love her Memnon indeed ; 
but this was but an instance of the kindly forgiveness 
which love often extends to those who break his 
laws. Her new suitor was not one to be resisted. 
And, however truly he might profess only to sue, 
circumstances made his suing a command. If she 
accepted the liberty that he offered her, whither was 
she to turn, her father and brother dead, and her 
country manifestly destined to fall into a conqueror’s 


TO JERUSALEM 


l8l 


hand. At the same time the generosity of his offer 
touched her heart. She might know in her own 
mind that her choice was not free; but it soothed 
her woman’s pride to be told that it was. 

Alexander’s feelings in the matter was a curious 
compound of various sentiments. The woman 
attracted him; he found her more beautiful even 
than common report had described her, and accord- 
ing to report, she, after the Queen of Darius, was the 
most lovely of Persian women. Then the idea of 
making the two nations, Greeks and Persians, into 
one, was really a powerful motive with him,^ and he 
thought it might be furthered by this alliance. But 
beyond all doubt the master thought in his mind was 
of a more sentimental kind. As has been said before, 
it delighted him beyond all things to act Homer. 
And here was three of the parts ready made to his 
hand. Memnon was Hector, as long as he lived the 
chief stay of Persia, Persia being the heir of Troy; 
Barsin6 was Andromache, and he was Achilles or the 
son of Achilles. In legend the son of Achilles had 
taken Andromache to wife; so would he; only he 
would play the part in gentler and humaner fashion, 
as became one who had sat at the feet of the greatest 
philosopher of the day. 

* Very possibly this had something to do with the extravagancies of 
his later years, when he assumed the Persian dress, lived in Persian 
fashion, and even demanded Oriental prostrations from his attendants. 
The attempt which he made to combine Macedonian and Persian 
soldiers in the phalanx was certainly a part of the same scheme. 


i 82 


TO JERUSALEM 


A few days after the marriage had taken place, the 
king sent for Charidemus to give him some instruc- 
tions. 

‘‘You are to go to Jerusalem,” he said. “Manasseh 
the Jew counsels that Clearista, the queen’s niece, 
should be sent thither. He seems to be in the right. 
Certainly she cannot go with the army; and I know 
of no place where she can be more safely bestowed 
than the city of the Jews. Manasseh, too, has kins- 
folk with whom she may sojourn. Of course she 
must have an escort, and you will take two hundred 
horsemen with your friend Charondas the Theban as 
the second in command. Then I have another 
errand for you. I have a conviction that I shall 
have trouble with Tyre. The other Phoenician 
cities, you know, have yielded. The Sidonians 
actually asked me to choose a king for them, and I 
did, but I have private information that Tyre means 
to hold out. If it does, I shall find the Jews very 
useful. They can send me some soldiers, and their 
soldiers, I am told, fight very well; but what I shall 
most want will be provisions. Let them supply my 
army with these, and they shall not find me ungrate- 
ful. This is what I want you to manage. You shall 
take a letter from me to their High Priest — they 
have a curious fancy, I understand, for being ruled 
by priests — which will state what I want. You will 
have to back it up. Make them understand — and I 
have been told that they are singularly obstinate — 


TO JERUSALEM 


183 

that I shall be better pleased if I can get what I 
want peaceably, but that I mean to have it some- 
how.” 

This commission was, as may be supposed, very 
much to the young man’s taste. Though Jerusalem 
did not fill as great a space in the mind of a Greek 
as it does in ours, it was a famous city, and Chari- 
demus was glad to have the chance of seeing it. 
Then this was his first independent command. And, 
last not least, there was Clearista, and she was in 
his charge ! It was accordingly in the highest of 
spirits that he started. It was reckoned to be about 
a six days’ journey if the traveller followed the easiest 
and most frequented routes ^ ; and six happier days 
the young man had never spent. The care of Man- 
asseh had provided two companions for Clearista. 
One was an elderly lady, a kinswoman of his own, 
Mariamne by name, the other one a girl about two 
years older than the young lady herself, who was 
to act as her personal attendant. Mariamne was 
carried in a litter ; the two girls rode on donkeys. 
Two sumpter mules followed with their baggage and 
effects. Half the escort rode in front under the 
command of Charondas ; of the other half Charide- 

* This was by the caravan road from Damascus to Egypt. The road 
crossed the Jordan at the north of the Lake of Galilee, and then struck 
westward across the country till it reached the Maritime Plain. Some- 
where about Joppa a traveller to Jerusalem left the caravan road turning 
eastward to make his way up to Jerusalem. The distance would be 
136 miles. 


TO yERU SALEM 


184 

mus took special command, but did not find his 
duties prevent him from spending a considerable part 
of his time in the company of his charge. At the 
end of each day’s journey the travellers reached a 
caravanserai. The soldiers bivouacked in the 
spacious court-yards of these places ; the women 
had the best of such accommodation as the building 
could furnish; and Mariamne always invited the 
two officers in command to share their evening meal. 
These little entertainments seemed to the guests to 
come to an end too soon ; with so light a gaiety did 
the talk flow on as they sat round the central brasier 
in the spacious room of the caravanserai. There 
was still much of the unconsciousness of childhood 
in Clearista. Her manner to Charidemus was per- 
fectly frank and sisterly, so unreserved, in fact, that 
it made it much easier for him to keep his own secret. 
Still she had developed both in body and mind. 
Face and form were more commanding, and seemed 
likely to more than fulfil all their early promise of 
beauty. And a year of close companionship with a 
cultured and thoughtful woman in Barsin6 had 
taught her much. Nature had given her a keen 
intelligence, and she had been now learning with 
good result how to use it. Every day made Chari- 
demus feel more strongly that the happiness of his 
life was bound up in this young girl. But he was 
lover enough to know that her heart was yet to be 
won. Her gay friendliness, charming as it was, 


TO yERUSALEM 185 

showed that she had not so much as caught a 
glimpse of what was in his mind. 

It could hardly, we may suppose, have been dis- 
pleasing to the young soldier-lover, if he had had 
some opportunity of showing his prowess before his 
lady-love’s eyes, even, perhaps, of rescuing her from 
some imminent peril. Nor indeed was the journey 
without some chances of this kind. The Arabs of 
the desert, then as now, thought travellers a lawful 
source of income, who might fairly be plundered, if 
they did not pay for protection. These were the 
regular freebooters of the country, and just then it 
swarmed with irregulars, fragments of the great host 
which had been broken to pieces at Issus. Again and 
again, as the travellers pursued their journey, little 
bands of suspicious looking horsemen might be seen 
hovering near. Once, as they were making their 
way across the fords of Jordan, an attack seemed 
imminent. A caravan was always most helpless 
when it was struggling through a ford, and the Arabs 
knew their opportunity. The vanguard had passed 
to the western side of the river, and the convoy itself 
was in mid-stream, while the troopers of the rear- 
guard were tightening their saddle-girths and gene- 
rally preparing to enter the water. It was just the 
moment when, if ever, discipline was relaxed, and 
the practised eye of the Arab chief who was wont to 
take toll at that particular spot did not fail to observe 
it. His horsemen had been lying in ambush in the 


i86 


TO JERUSALEM 


jungle that skirted the narrow valley of the river. 
Now they came galloping down, brandishing their 
spears and uttering wild cries of defiance, till they 
had come within a bow-shot of the caravan. Had 
there been the slightest sign of confusion or panic, 
the feint would have been converted into a real 
attack. All troops would not have stood firm, for 
the assailants outnumbered the escort by at least two 
to one. But the men who had conquered at the 
Granicus and at Issus were not to be terrified by a 
horde of marauders. In a moment every man was in 
his saddle, as cool and as steady as if he had been 
passing in review under the eyes of his general on a 
field day. Clearista showed herself a true soldier’s 
daughter, as Charidemus, while doing his part as a 
leader, found time to observe. Her animal had just 
entered the water when the charge was made. In- 
stead of urging him on, she turned his head again to 
the bank, at the same time signalling to her maid to 
do the same. Many women would have striven in 
their panic to get as far as possible from the enemy. 
A braver instinct bade her keep close to her friends. 
To cross while fighting was going on would have dis- 
tracted their attention, even had there been no danger 
in attempting the ford without help. 

As a matter of fact not a blow was struck. The 
Arabs, then as now, loved booty, but seldom cared to 
fight for it. They certainly did not think of dashing 
themselves against the iron fence of the Macedonian 


TO yERU SALEM 


187 


pikes. At a signal from the chief they checked them- 
selves in full career, and disappeared as suddenly as 
they had come. 

The rest of the journey was accomplished with- 
out further adventure. It was just about sunset on 
the sixth day when the Macedonians reached the 
northern gate of the city. At the request of Chari- 
demus, the gate-keeper despatched a messenger with 
a letter for the High Priest with which Manasseh 
had furnished him. In a short time an official ap- 
peared to whom the Macedonian handed over his 
charges, taking for them a formal receipt. He 
and his troopers remained for the night outside the 
walls in quarters specially provided for the accom- 
modation of foreign troops who might approach the 
Holy City. 

The next day he received an intimation that 
Jaddus the High Priest would receive him. Jaddus 
had convened the Sanhedrim, or Hebrew Senate, 
and the demands of Alexander had been considered. 
The substance of them, it must be understood, was 
perfectly well known, though they had not yet been 
formally made. There had been a long and fierce 
debate upon the matter, but the Persian party, on 
whose side the High Priest had thrown all the 
weight of his influence, had prevailed, and the 
Senate had resolved by a large majority to reject the 
Macedonian’s demands. 

The young envoy was introduced into the council 


i88 


TO yERU SALEM 


chamber, and requested to read the letter which it 
was understood he had brought from the king. He 
read it, and it was translated, sentence by sentence 
into Hebrew by an interpreter. He was then invited 
to address the Senate if he had anything to urge 
upon them or to explain. This invitation he declined, 
briefly remarking that the deeds of his master spoke 
more emphatically and convincingly of the justice of 
his demands than any words of his own could do. 
The question whether the demands of Alexander, 
King of Macedonia, should or should not be granted 
was then put. As it had been really decided before, 
the Senate had agreed to give an unanimous vote ; 
and the envoy, who was not behind the scenes, was 
not a little surprised at the promptitude and decision 
with which a negative answer was given. 

After announcing the result of the vote the High 
Priest addressed to the envoy a short speech in justi- 
fication, the substance of which he was to convey to 
the Macedonian king. 

‘‘ Tell your master,” he said, ^‘that the children of 
Abraham desire to be friends with all men, but allies 
of none. If Alexander has a quarrel with any, let 
him pursue it with his own arms. The men of Tyre 
have given us no offence ; nay, rather they have been 
our friends for many generations. When Solomon, 
son of David, built a house for the Lord, Hiram, 
King of Tyre, helped him greatly in his work, send- 
ing him cedar-wood from Lebanon and diverse other 


TO yERUSALEM 


189 

things, and skilful builders and artificers. And when 
the Chaldaeans burned with fire the house that 
Solomon had set up, and Ezra the priest and 
Nehemiah the governor under Artaxerxes the king 
built another in its place, then the men of Tyre 
helped us again. Therefore it were unjust should we 
do aught to their prejudice. There is yet another 
demand to which answer must be made. Your 
master says, ^ Pay me the tribute that you were wont 
to pay to Darius.’ For the money we care not, but 
the oath that we have sworn to the king we will not 
break. So long as he lives, or till he shall himself 
loose us from it, so long will we be faithful to it.” 

The envoy received the message in silence, and 
left the council chamber. A military guard con- 
ducted him to the gate, and in the course of a couple 
of hours he was on his way with his command to 
join the main army. A week later he was taking 
part in the investment of Tyre. 


CHAPTER XVII 


TYRE 

It was a formidable task that Alexander had under- 
taken. Tyre was built upon an island separated 
from the mainland by a channel half-a-mile broad. 
Half of this channel was, indeed, shallow, but the 
other half, that nearest to the city, was as much as 
twenty feet deep. The island was surrounded by 
walls of the most solid construction, rising on one 
side, that fronting the channel, to the enormous 
height of a hundred and fifty feet. How was a place 
so strong to be taken, especially when the besiegers 
had not the command of the sea ? 

Alexander’s fertility of resource did not fail him. 
A century and a half before Xerxes had undertaken, 
or rather pretended to undertake,^ the construction 
of a mole from the mainland of Attica to the island 
of Salamis. It was curiously in keeping with Alex- 
ander’s idea of retaliating upon Persia its own 

* According to Herodotus (viii. 97) the work was commenced as a 
blind to conceal from the Greeks and from his own people the king’s 
resolution to return to Asia, after his defeat at Salamis. 


TYRE 


igl 


misdoings that he should take one of its cities by 
accomplishing in earnest what Xerxes had begun in 
pretence. Accordingly he made preparations for 
constructing a great mole or embankment, which was 
to be carried across from the mainland to the island. 
It was to be seventy yards wide, and so, when com- 
pleted, would give plenty of space for carrying on 
operations against the walls. 

Materials in abundance were at hand. The city 
of Old Tyre was on the mainland. The greater part 
of it had been in ruins for many years, in fact, ever 
since the siege by Nebuchadnezzar, and the rest was 
now deserted by its inhabitants. From this plenty of 
stone and brick and rubbish of all kinds could be 
obtained. Not far off were the forests of Lebanon, 
contracted, indeed, within narrower limits than they 
had once been, but still able to supply as much 
timber as was wanted. Of labour, forced and free, 
there was no lack. The soldiers worked with a will, 
and crowds of Syrian peasants were driven in from 
the neighbourhood to take their part in the labour. 

At first the operations were easy enough. The 
ground was soft so that the piles could be driven in 
without any difficulty, and the water was so shallow 
that it did not require much labour to fill up the 
spaces between them. At the same time the 
Phoenician fleet did not venture, for fear of running 
aground, to come near enough to damage or annoy 
the workmen. It was when the embankment had 


192 


TYRE 


been carried about half way across the channel, and 
had touched the deeper water, that the difficulties 
began. The men worked under showers of missiles, dis- 
charged from the ships and even from the walls. The 
soldiers themselves, accustomed though they were 
to risk their lives, did not ply their tools as promptly 
as usual ; the unwarlike peasants were simply 
paralyzed with fear. Though the king himself was 
everywhere, encouraging, theatening, promising, 
sometimes even putting his own hand to the work, 
little progress was made. So far the advantage 
seemed to rest with the besieged. At the present 
rate of advance Alexander would be as long making 
his way into the city as Nebuchadnezzar had been.^ 

The next move was won by the besiegers. Two 
huge moveable towers were constructed upon the 
finished portion of the mole. They were made of 
wood, but the wood was covered with hides, and so 
made fireproof. Catapults were placed on the top ; 
from these such a fire of javelins, bullets, and stones 
were kept up that the enemy’s ships could not 
approach. Again the mole began to advance, the 
towers being moved forwards from time to time so 
as to protect the newly finished portion. 

It was now time for the Tyrians to bestir them- 
selves, and they did so effectually. A huge trans- 
port, originally made for carrying horses, was filled 
with combustibles of every kind, caldrons of pitch 


* Thirteen years. 


TYRE 


m 


and brimstone being attached even to the yardarms 
of the masts. The stern was heavily weighted 
with ballast, and the prow thus raised high above 
water. Taking advantage of a day when the wind 
blew strongly on to the mole, the Tyrians set light to 
the contents of this fire-ship, and after towing it part 
of the way by a small ship on either side, let it drive 
towards the embankment. It struck between the 
towers, the elevated prow reaching some way over 
the top of the mole. The sudden shock, too, broke 
the masts, and the burning contents of the caldrons 
were discharged. In a few moments the towers 
were in a blaze, and all the work of weeks was lost. 

It was now clear that without a fleet nothing 
could be done, and again Alexander’s good fortune 
became conspicuous. Just at the critical time when 
he most needed help, this help was supplied. The 
Persian fleet in the ^Egean had been broken up. 
Tyre had summoned back her oWn ships to aid in 
her defence, and the other Phoenician cities had also 
recalled their squadrons. But as these cities had 
submitted to Alexander their ships were at his dis- 
posal. Other small contingents had come in, till he 
could muster about a hundred men-of-war. Still he 
was not a match for the Tyrians, the less so as these 
were by common consent the best of all the Phoeni- 
cian seamen. It was then that a decisive weight 
was thrown into his side of the balance. The kings 
of Cyprus, a country which had no reason to love the 


194 


TYRE 


Persians, joined him, adding one hundred and twenty 
more ships to his fleet. He could now meet his 
adversaries at sea on more than equal terms. 

It was necessary indeed before a battle could be 
ventured on to give some time to discipline and 
practice. Many of the crews were raw and unskilful, 
and the various contingents of which the fleet was 
composed had never learnt to act together. Another 
great improvement, adding much* to the fighting 
force of the ships, was to put on board each of them 
a small number of picked soldiers, who took the 
place of the marines in our own navy. Charidemus 
and Charondas both found employment in this way, 
the former being attached to the flag-ship, as it may 
be called, of the King of Sidon, the latter to that of 
Androcles, Prince of Amathus in Cyprus. 

After eleven days given to practice in manoeuvring 
and general preparation, Alexander sailed out from 
Sidon, where a rendezvous had been given to the 
whole naval force. The ships advanced in a crescent 
formation, the king himself commanding on the 
right or sea-ward wing, one of the Cyprian princes 
on the left ; the latter skirted the shore as closely as 
the depth of water permitted. The Tyrians, who 
now learnt for the first time how great a fleet their 
enemy had succeeded in getting together, did not 
venture to fight. They could do nothing more than 
fortify the entrance to their two harbours, the 
Sidonian harbour, looking to the north, and the 


TYRE 


195 


Egyptian, looking to the south. Alexander, on the 
other hand, established a blockade. The ships from 
Cyprus were set to watch the northern harbour, 
those from the submitted Phoenician cities that 
which looked to the south. 

The Tyrians, however, though for the time taken 
by surprise, were not going to give up without a 
struggle the command of the sea. They came to 
the resolution to attack one of the blockading 
squadrons, and knowing, perhaps, the skill and 
prowess of their fellow Phoenicians, they determined 
that this one should be the contingent from Cyprus. 
Each harbour had been screened from view by sails 
spread across its mouth. Under cover of these, 
preparations were actively carried on in that which 
looked towards the north. The swiftest and 
strongest of the Tyrian ships, to the number of 
thirteen, were selected, and manned with the best 
sailors and soldiers that could be found in the city. 
Midday, when the Cyprian crews would be taking 
their noonday meal, and Alexander himself, if he 
followed his usual practice, would be resting in his 
tent, was fixed as the time for the attack. At 
midday, accordingly, the thirteen galleys issued 
from the harbour mouth, moving in single file and 
in deep silence, the crews rowing with muffled oars, 
and the officers giving their orders by gesture. They 
had come close on the blockading ships without 
being noticed, when a common signal was given, the 


196 


TYRE 


crews shouted, and the rowers plied their oars with 
all the strength that they could muster. Some of 
the Gyprian ships had been almost deserted by their 
crews, others lay broadside to ; few were in a posi- 
tion to make a vigorous resistance. Just at this 
moment, and long before his usual time for return- 
ing, Alexander came back from his tent, and saw 
the critical position of affairs. Prompt as ever, he 
manned a number of the Cyprian ships that were 
lying at the mole, and sent for help to the other 
squadron. The mouth of the northern harbour was 
promptly blockaded, so that no more ships could 
get out to help the attacking galleys, and these were 
soon assailed in the rear by a contingent from the 
blockading squadron on the south side. The 
fortune of the day was effectually restored, but some 
loss had already been sustained. Several of the 
Cyprian ships had been sunk, and their crews either 
drowned or taken prisoners. This had been the fate 
of the vessel of Androcles of Amathus. The prince 
himself was drowned, and Charondas had very nearly 
shared his fate. Weighed down by his armour, he 
could only just keep himself afloat by the help of a 
spar which he had seized. A Tyrian sailor who saw 
him in this situation was about to finish him with 
the blow of an oar, when an officer, seeing that the 
swimmer must be a man of some rank, interfered. 
The Theban was dragged on board, and, with some 
thirty or forty others, three of whom were Macedo- 
nians or Greeks, carried back into the city. 


TYRE 


197 


When the losses of the day were reckoned up the 
first impression was that Charondas had shared the 
fate of his captain. Later in the evening the real 
truth was known. A Cypriote sailor, one of the crew 
of the lost ship, had seen what had happened. He 
was supporting himself in the water by holding on 
to a mass of broken timber, and, luckily for himself, 
had not been observed. Two or three hours later he 
had been picked up by a friendly vessel, but in such 
a state of exhaustion that he could give no account 
of himself. It was not till late in the night that he 
recovered his senses. Charidemus, who had refused 
to give up hope, was called to hear the man’s story, 
and satisfied himself that it was true. But he could 
not be sure that his friend had not better have been 
drowned than been taken as a prisoner into Tyre. 

His fears were greatly increased by the events of 
the next day. Alexander, who had a great liking for 
Charondas, and whose conscience was especially 
tender whenever anything Theban was concerned, 
sent a herald early in the morning to negotiate an 
exchange of prisoners. The man returned without 
succeeding in his mission. The Tyrians refused the 
proposal, vouchsafing no other reason for their refusal 
except that they had other uses for their prisoners. 

Charidemus found himself that evening the next 
neighbour of a young Sidonian noble, at a banquet 
which the king was giving to some of his Phoenician 
allies. He asked him what he thought was the real 


TYRE 


198 

meaning .of the somewhat obscure answer which the 
herald had brought back that morning. 

I hope/' said the young man, ‘‘that there is no 
friend of yours among the prisoners." 

“ Yes, but there is," was the answer. “ The very 
dearest friend that I have is in the city." 

The Sidonian — he was the son of the newly- 
appointed king of that city — looked very grave. “ I 
know something of these Tyrians and of their ways, 
which indeed are not very different from ours. They 
mean to sacrifice these prisoners to the gods." 

Charidemus uttered an exclamation of horror. 

“Yes," said the Sidonian, “it is shocking, but it 
is not so very long, as I have read, since you Greeks 
did the same. But let that pass ; you are thinking 
what is to be done. Stop," he went on, for Chari- 
demus started up from his seat, “ you can't take Tyre 
single-handed. And I think I might help you. Let 
me consider for a few moments." 

After a pause he said, “ You are ready, I take it, 
to risk a good deal for your friend." 

“Yes," cried the Macedonian, “my life, any- 
thing." 

“Well ; we must get him out. Fortunately there 
are two or three days to think about it. At^ least I 
hope so. There is always a great sacrifice to Mel- 
karth — your Hercules, as, I dare say, you know — on 
the new moon ; and they will probably reserve the 
principal prisoner for that. The moon is, I know, 


TYRE 


199 


four days short of being new. So we have time to 
think. Come with me to my quarters, when we can 
leave this place, and let us talk the matter over,’’ 

It was not long before the two contrived to slip 
away from their places at the table. When they 
found themselves alone, the prince began — 

We might get into Tyre, I think, unobserved.” 
We,' interrupted Charidemus in intense surprise. 
Do you think of going with me ? ” 

‘‘ Why not ? ” returned his companion. ‘‘ I am 
fond of adventure, and this really seems to promise 
very well. And I have other reasons, too ; but they 
will do another day when I will tell you my story. 
Of course you must have some one with you who can 
speak the language ; so that if you are willing to 
have me for a comrade, I am ready.” 

The Macedonian could only clasp the prince’s 
hand. His heart was too full to allow him to speak. 

‘‘ Well,” the other went on, “ as I said, we might 
get in unobserved. There is a way of clambering up 
the wall on the sea side — I lived, you must know, for 
a year in Tyre, working in one of the dockyards.^ 
Or we might swim into one of the harbours at night. 

* This was not, as my readers may fancy, an anticipation of Peter the 
Great’s sojourn at Deptford, for the purpose of learning the art of ship- 
building. Abdalonymus (Abd-Elomin, ‘‘servant of the gods”), whom 
Hephaestion, acting for Alexander, had made King of Sidon, though 
of royal descent, was a working man (“on account of his poverty he 
cultivated a garden near the city for a humble remuneration,” says 
Curtius), and his son may well have gone to work for his livelihood in 
ihe dockyards of Tyre. 


^00 


TYRE 


But the chances are very much against us ; and if 
we were to be caught, it would be all over with us, 
and your friend too. And besides, supposing that we 
did get in, I don’t see what we could do. No; we 
must take a bolder line ; we must go openly. We 
must make some plausible pretext ; and then, having 
got in, we will see what can be done for your friend. 
Now as for myself, there is no difficulty. I have a 
good reason. You know we Sidonians took part with 
your king. It seemed to us that we had no other 
choice, and that it would have been downright folly 
to attempt to hold out against him. But these 
Tyrians, though we are fighting against them, are, 
after all, of our blood — you see I talk quite frankly 
to you — and, if things come to the worst with them, 
as they must come, sooner or later, then we shall do 
our best to save as many of them as we can. I have 
really a commission to tell them this, and to warn 
them that, if the city is stormed, they must make 
for our ships. But the question is — how are you to 
go?" 

A thought struck Charidemus. He wondered 
indeed that it had not occurred before. He showed 
the Sidonian the ring which King Darius had given 
him. ‘‘ Perhaps this may help me,” he said. The 
prince was delighted. It is the very thing,” he 
said. “ You need not fear anything, if you have that 
with you. The Tyrians will respect that, though the 
prisoners tell us that they are very sore at being 


TYRE 


201 


left all these months without any help from the king. 
I should not profess to have any message from him. 
They have been looking for help, not messages. 
No; I should recommend you simply to show the 
ring. It will be a safe-conduct for you. Once in, 
we shall begin to see our way.” 

The next morning brought only too convincing a 
proof that the Sidonian prince was right in his con- 
jecture about the fate destined for the prisoners. 
Three of these unhappy creatures were brought on to 
that part of the city wall which faced the mole, and 
sacrificed as a burnt-offering with all the formalities 
of Phoenician worship. The besiegers watched the 
performance of the hideous ceremony with unspeak- 
able rage in their hearts. Their only comfort was to 
vow vengeance against the ruthless barbarians who 
perpetrated such atrocities. The three victims, as 
far as could be made out, were Cypriote sailors 
belonging to the ships that had been sunk. Chari- 
demus was able to satisfy himself that his friend was 
not one of them. 

It was arranged that the two adventurers should 
make their way that night to one of the ships of war 
that guarded the entrance to the Sidonian harbour. 
They were to put off after dark with every appearance 
of secrecy, were to be pursued, and as nearly as 
possible captured, by a Macedonian galley, and so 
were to present themselves to the besieged as genuine 
fugitives. 


202 


TYRE 


The little drama was acted to perfection. The 
prince and Charidemus stole out in a little boat from 
the land. A minute or so afterwards a hue and cry 
was raised upon the shore, and a galley started in 
pursuit. The boat was so nearly overtaken that its 
occupants jumped overboard, and swam to the nearest 
Tyrian galley. No one who saw the incident could 
doubt that it was a genuine escape. 

The two companions were brought into the 
presence of Azemilcus, King of Tyre. The king had 
been in command of the Tyrian squadron in the 
iEgean fleet, and had seen Charidemus in Memnon’s 
company. By great good fortune he had not hap- 
pened to inquire in what character he was there. 
So friendly had Memnon’s demeanour been to the 
young man that no one would have taken him for a 
prisoner, and Azemilcus had supposed that he was 
a Greek in the service of Persia, who was assisting 
Memnon in the capacity of secretary or aide-de-camp. 
This recollection and the sight of the ring perfectly 
satisfied him. Nor did he seem to doubt the real 
friendliness of the Sidonian’s message. It seemed 
to him, as indeed it was, perfectly genuine,^ and he 
warmly thanked the two companions for the risk 
they had run. They frankly explained that they had 
not really meant to desert from the besieging army. 


* When Tyre was taken the crews of the Sidonian galleys did actually 
rescue a number of the inhabitants, who would otherwise have been 
slain or sold into captivity. 


TYRE 


203 


Such a proceeding, indeed, would have seemed 
suspicious in the critical condition of the city. 
They had hoped, on the contrary, to come and 
return unobserved. As it was, having been seen 
and pursued, they must stay and take their chance 
with the besiegeda 

Azemilcus invited the two young men to be his 
guests at supper. He had lived a good deal with 
Greeks, and spoke their language fluently, besides 
having adopted some of their ways of thought. 
When the conversation happened to turn on the 
sacrifices to Melkarth, he explained that he had 
nothing to do with them, though without expressing 
any particular horror or disgust. “ The priests in- 
sist upon them, and though I don’t like such things, 
I am not strong enough to resist. You see,” he 
went on to explain, for the benefit of the Greek 
guests, ‘‘we Phoenicians are much more religious 
than you, and if I were to set myself against an old 
custom of this kind, it would very likely cost me my 
throne and my life.” 

In the course of the conversation it came out that 
the victims intended for sacrifice were kept in a 
chamber adjoining the Temple of Melkarth, and that, 
as the Sidonian prince had supposed, the next great 
ceremony would take place on the approaching new 
moon. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE ESCAPE 

The two companions, at the prince’s request, shared 
the same room, and sat up late into the night, con- 
sidering what was next to be done. The king’s 
palace, where they were quartered, almost adjoined 
the temple. But, beyond the fact that they were 
near to the scene of their proposed operations, they 
could see little light. A hundred plans were started, 
discussed, and rejected, and they threw themselves 
down on their beds as dawn began to steal through 
the windows of their apartment, with a feeling of 
something like despair. They had come, however, 
to one conclusion. The Sidonian was to pay a visit 
to the temple early on the following morning. There 
would be nothing singular in his doing so. In fact, it 
would be more remarkable if he did not. If Melkarth 
was specially worshipped in Tyre, he was, at the 
same time, not without honour in Sidon ; and a 
prince of the reigning house, the heir, in fact, to the 
throne, would be expected to pay his respects to the 
god. Charidemus, on the other hand, it was felt, 


THE ESCAPE 


205 


would do well to stop away. The popular temper 
was angry and suspicious, and it would be well to 
avoid anything that might irritate it. 

The prince paid his visit accordingly, was present 
at the morning sacrifice, and propitiated the priests 
of the temple by an offering of twelve of the gold 
pieces with which he had prudently filled his pockets. 
This, however, meant very little. A more hopeful 
fact, as regarded their chances of success, was the 
discovery that one of the temple attendants was an 
old acquaintance of the prince’s, like him a Sidonian 
by birth, who had worked with him in the dockyards, 
and had now found a easier place in one of the sub- 
ordinate offices of the temple. The prince suspected 
that the man had the charge of the victims, having 
seen him carry what looked like a basket of provi- 
sions into one of the ante-chambers of the temple, 
but, for fear of arousing suspicion, had not made any 
inquiries on the subject. He had not even, for the 
present, discovered himself to his old comrade. The 
question was, how far the man could be trusted. If 
he betrayed them, all was lost ; on the other hand, 
could his help be secured, the prospect of escape 
for themselves and Charondas was most hopeful. 
And they had large inducements to offer, a handsome 
sum of money in hand, the promise of his life should 
the city be taken, and the hope of future advance- 
ment in his profession. He might be a fanatic. In 
that case all would be lost. But the presumption 


2o6 


THE ESCAPE 


was against the idea. Fanaticism is commonly 
found in those who worship in a temple rather than 
in those who serve in it. He might, again, be a 
coward. That would be equally fatal. But, if he 
were a man of average temper and courage, who 
would be willing to rescue a fellow creature from 
death, if he found himself well paid for doing it, 
things might go well. 

It was finally agreed — indeed no prospect seemed 
to open out in any other direction — that the prince 
should discover himself to the man, and sound him. 
This was done, and with a result that was fairly 
satisfactory, as far as it went. The man had been 
much impressed by the new dignity of his former 
comrade, and still more by his condescension and 
kindness in seeking him out, and he had been 
effusively grateful for a present of half-a-score of 
gold pieces. Asked about his pay and his duties, he 
had told his questioner that he had charge of the 
victims destined for sacrifice, and had mentioned 
that he had several under his care at the moment. 
He spoke of one in particular with a good deal of 
feeling. • He was a fine young fellow, and he was 
very sorry for him. It seemed a monstrous thing to 
butcher him in this fashion. In the course of the 
conversation it came out that there was a serious 
difficulty in the case. The care of the victims was 
divided between two attendants, and the other, 
according to the Sidonian’s account, was a brutal 


THE ESCAPE 20J 

and fanatical fellow, who gloated over the fate of his 
charges. 

After long and anxious consideration a plan was 
finally decided upon, subject, of course, to such 
modifications as circumstances might suggest. The 
prince and Charidemus, the latter being disguised as 
a slave, were to make their way into the temple, 
shortly before it was closed for the night. Then, and 
not till then, the friendly attendant was to be taken 
into confidence. He seemed a man whom the 
weight of a secret might very likely so burden as to 
make him helpless, and who might be best won by 
large bribes and offers made at the last moment. If 
the worst came to the worst, he might be over- 
powered, a course that would certainly have to be 
taken with his colleague. 

There was a private way from the palace into the 
temple, which was almost in darkness when the 
companions reached it. Whatever light there was 
came from a single lamp that hung between the two 
famous pillars, one of gold, and one, it was said, of 
emerald, which were the glory of the place and the 
admiration of travellers.^ Charidemus had no 
thoughts for anything but the perilous task that he 
had in hand, though he carried away from the place 

* Herodotus says it was of emerald, but Sir J. G. Wilkinson (in Prof. 
Rawlinson’s “Herodotus ”) notes that it was doubtless of green glass, 
glass having been manufactured in Egypt even thousands of years before 
the time of Herodotus. 


jao8 


THE ESCAPE 


a general impression of vast wealth and barbaric 
splendour. 

The friendly attendant came forward to meet' the 
new-comers. The prince caught him by the arm. 

Swear,” he said, by Melkarth, to help us, and 
don’t utter another sound, or you die this instant.” 
The man stammered out the oath. 

‘‘ That is well,” said the prince, ^^we knew that 
we could trust you. You shall have wealth and 
honour. When Alexander is master of Tyre, you 
shall be priest of the temple. Now listen to what 
we want. We must have this Greek prisoner who is 
to be sacrificed to the god at the feast of the new 
moon. He is dear to our king, and must not die.” 

At this moment the other attendant came up the 
central avenue of the temple, of course utterly un- 
suspicious of danger. The prince, a young man of 
more than usual muscular power, seized him by the 
throat. He uttered a stifled cry, which, however, 
there was no one in the temple to hear. The next 
moment he was gagged, bound hand and foot, and 
dragged into a small side chapel, the door of which 
was fastened upon him from the outside. His keys 
had previously been taken from him. 

‘‘ Now for the prisoner,” said the prince. 

The attendant led the way to a door that opened 
out from the north-east corner of the temple, and 
this he unlocked. It led into a spacious chamber 
well lighted by two lamps that hung from the arched 


THE ESCAPE 


ceiling. Charondas was seated on a chair of ebony 
and ivory; all the belongings of the place were hand- 
some and even costly. Round his waist was a 
massive chain of gold (the prisoners of the god could 
not be bound by anything less precious), which was 
fastened to a staple in the wall. The attendant 
unlocked it, using — for the lock was double — first his 
own key, and then one that had been taken from the 
person of his colleague. 

^‘Explanations afterwards,’* whispered Charidemus; 
“ now we must act.” 

The prince looked inquiringly at the attendant. 
What was to be done after the release of the prisoner 
was to be left, it had been agreed, to circumstances. 
What the circumstances really were, no one knew so 
well as this man 

“ I have it,” cried the temple servant, meditating 
for a few moments, and he led the way to a small 
chamber used for keeping the sacred vestments. He 
then explained his plan. 

“There is a small temple at the mouth of the 
southern harbour. If we can get there, it will be 
something ; and I think we can. Anyhow it is our 
best chance.” 

Charidemus and the prince were disguised as 
priests. So ample were the robes that the figure 
of the person wearing them became undistinguish- 
able, while the tall mitre with which the head was 
covered could be so worn that any slight difference 


210 


THE ESCAPE 


of height would not be observed. The attendant, 
when he had finished robing them, an operation that 
of course he performed with a practised skill, pro- 
nounced that they made a very good pair of priests. 
He wore his own official dress, and arrayed the 
Theban in one that belonged to his comrade. 

Thus equipped, the party set out, the pretended 
priests in front, and the attendants behind, holding a 
canopy over their superiors. They made their way 
at the slow and measured pace that befitted their 
profession to the harbour temple, passed the guard 
which was set at the land entrance to the port with- 
out challenge, and reached the sacred building 
without any mishap. 

They were now close to the water, and could even 
see the friendly ships of the southern blockading 
squadron ; but the guard ships by which the mouth 
of the harbour was closed were between them and 
safety. The question was, how these were to be 
passed. It was a question that had to be answered 
without delay, for they could see from a window of 
the temple which commanded a view of the whole 
harbour signs of commotion, such as the flashing of 
torches, which indicated that their escape had been 
discovered. 

This indeed was the case. The king had sent an 
attendant a little after sunset to summon his guests 
to the evening meal. He reported their absence to 
his master, who, however, for a time suspected 


THE ESCAPE 


211 


nothing. But when a second messenger found them 
still absent, inquiries were made. Some one had 
heard sounds in the temple, and the temple was 
searched ; after that everything else that had hap- 
pened could be seen or guessed. 

Nothing remained for the fugitives but to strip off 
their garments and plunge into the water. Unfortu- 
nately the temple attendant was an indifferent swim- 
mer. A boat, however, was lying moored some thirty 
yards from the shore, and this the party managed to 
reach. But by the time that they had all clambered on 
board, a thing which it always takes some time to do, 
the pursuers were within a hundred yards of the 
harbour-temple. 

It must be explained that at each end of the row 
of ships by which the harbour mouth was protected, 
was an empty hulk, and that between the hulk and 
the pier side was a narrow opening only just broad 
and deep enough for a boat to pass over. This the 
prince had observed on some former occasion when 
he had been reconnoitring the defences of the harbour, 
and he now steered towards it, the rowers tugging at 
their oars with all their might. The boat had nearly 
reached the passage when the manoeuvre was 
observed. The crew of the nearest ship hastened to 
get on board the hulk; but the distance between 
these two was too great for a leap, and in the dark- 
ness the gangway commonly used could not be at 
once found. At the very moment when it was put 


212 


THE ESCAPE 


into position the boat had cleared the passage. So 
shallow indeed was the water that the hinder part of 
the keel had stuck for a few moments, but when the 
four occupants threw their weight into the bow, 
which was already in deeper water, it floated over. 

Happily the night was very dark. The sky was 
overcast, and it still wanted a day to the new moon. 
Nor did the torches with which the whole line of 
galleys was ablaze, make it easiei to distinguish an 
object outside the range ol their light. Still the boat 
could be dimly seen, and till it was be5^ond the range 
of missiles the fugitives could not consider themselves 
safe. And indeed they did not wholly escape. 
Both Charidemus and Charondas were struck with 
bullets that caused somewhat painful contusions, 
the prince was slightly wounded in the hand, and 
the attendant more seriously in the arm, which was 
indeed almost pierced through by an arrow. A few 
more strokes, however, carried them out of range, 
and they were safe. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE HIGH PRIEST 

It had only been in sheer despair that Tyre had held 
out after her fleet lost the command of the sea. 
Able now to attack the city at any point that he 
might choose, Alexander abandoned the mole which 
he had been at such vast pains to construct, and 
commenced operations on the opposite side of the 
island, against the wall that fronted the open sea. 
The battering-rams were put on shipboard, and so 
brought to bear upon any weak places that had been 
discovered; and of these the Tyrians, confident of 
always being able to keep command of the sea, had 
left not a few. A first attempt failed; a second, 
made on a perfectly calm day, succeeded, and a con- 
siderable length of wall was broken down. A breach 
having been thus made, the ships that bore the 
battering-rams were withdrawn, and others carrying 
pontoons took their places. Two storming parties 
landed, one commanded by an officer of the name of 
Admetus, the other by Alexander in person. Admetus, 


214 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


who was the first to scale the wall, was killed by the 
stroke of a javelin, but his party made good their 
footing; and the king, landing his guards, was 
equally successful. The defenders of the wall 
abandoned it, but renewed the fight in the streets 
of the city. The battle raged most fiercely in the 
precincts of the Chapel of Agenor, the legendary 
founder of Tyre. The building had been strongly 
fortified, but it was taken at last, and the garrison 
was put to the sword. Before nightfall all Tyre was 
in the hands of Alexander. The king exacted a 
frightful penalty for the obstinate resistance which 
had baffled him for nearly a year. But he respected 
the Temple of Melkarth, where Azemilcus and a few 
of the Tyrian nobles had taken sanctuary, and the 
Sidonian prince had the satisfaction of saving more 
than a thousand victims from slavery or death. They 
took refuge in the galleys that were under his com- 
mand, and Alexander either did not know of their 
escape, or, as is more probably the case, did not 
care to inquire about it. Hundreds of the principal 
citizens were executed ; the remainder, numbering, 
it is said, thirty thousand, were sold as slaves. 

Melkarth, whose city had been thus depopulated, 
was then honoured with a splendid sacrifice. All 
the soldiers, in full armour, marched round the 
temple ; games, including a torch race, were held 
in the precincts; while the battering-ram that had 
made the first breach in the wall, and the galley 


THE HIGH PRIEST 21$ 

that had first broken the boom guarding the harbour, 
were deposited within the temple itself. 

‘‘ And now,” said the king, at the banquet with 
which the great festival of Melkarth was concluded, 
we will settle with that insolent priest who would 
not help us against these Tyrian rebels.” 

Sir,” said Hephaestion, ‘‘it is said that the god 
whom these Hebrews worship is mighty.” And he 
went on to relate some of the marvels of Jewish 
history of which he had lately been hearing. 

The king, who had something of a Roman’s respect 
for foreign religions, listened with attention. “ Have 
you heard anything of this kind ? ” he went on, ad- 
dressing Charidemus. “ Did your friend Manasseh 
tell you anything like this ? ” 

Charidemus, as it happened, had been greatly im- 
pressed by his conversations with the Jew. The 
story of the end of Belshazzar, and of the mysterious 
hand that came out upon the palace wall, as the 
impious king sat with his nobles, drinking out of the 
sacred vessels of the temple, and that wrote his doom 
in letters of fire, had particularly struck him, and he 
now repeated it. Alexander heard it in silence, 
sternly checking some scoff on which one of his 
younger courtiers ventured when it was finished. 

His resolve, however, to visit the seat of this 
formidable Deity was strengthened rather than 
weakened ; and on the following day he set out with 
a select body of troops and a numerous retinue of 


2i6 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


native princes, leaving the main body of the army in 
charge of Parmenio, to follow the road which led to 
Egypt — which country he proposed next to deal 
with — over the Maritime Plain of Palestine. The 
distance between Tyre and Jerusalem was somewhat 
under a hundred miles, and was traversed in about 
six days. It was the evening of the seventh when 
he reached the hill-top, now known by the name of 
Scopus, or the Outlook, which is the northern spur 
of the ridge of Olivet. Fronting him stood the Hill 
of Sion, crowned with the Temple buildings, not yet, 
indeed, grown to the majestic strength which they 
attained in later days, but still not wanting in im- 
pressiveness and dignity. Below were the walls, 
now restored to their old strength, which had with- 
stood more than one conqueror in his march, and 
the city, which, during more than a century of pros- 
perity and peace, had more than repaired the deso- 
lation of the last siege. Just then it was made 
singularly picturesque by the greenery of the booths 
of branches, under the shade of which the people 
were keeping the Feast of Tabernacles, and which 
crowded every open space in the city. 

But the attention of the visitors was arrested by 
a remarkable procession that met them as they 
reached the crest of the hill. At the head of it 
walked the High Priest, in all the magnificence of 
his robes of office. He wore a long garment or tunic 
of blue, made of the finest linen, that reached to 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


217 


below his knees. Below this were drawers of white 
linen, while the feet were protected by sandals. The 
upper part of his person was covered by the vestment 
known as the ephod, the tunic above described being 
‘‘ the robe of the ephod.” The ephod was a 
mixture of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet, and was 
richly embroidered. On each shoulder was a large 
onyx, while the breast was covered with the splendid 
‘‘ Breastplate of Judgment,’* with its twelve precious 
stones, and round the waist was the “ girdle dyed of 
many hues with gold interwoven with it.” Round 
the bottom of the robe of the ephod were pome- 
granates wrought in blue, purple, and scarlet, and 
golden bells. Behind this gorgeous figure came the 
priests in their robes of spotless white, and behind 
these again a crowd of citizens in holiday attire. 

The king stepped out from the ranks, and saluted 
the High Priest. So full of respect was his gesture 
that his attendants expressed, or at least looked, 
their surprise. 

adore,” said the king, ‘‘not the priest, but the 
God whom he serves. And this very man, clothed 
in these very robes, I now remember myself to have 
seen in a dream before I crossed into Asia, I had 
been considering with myself how I might best win 
the dominion over these lands, and he exhorted me 
boldly to cross over, for he would himself conduct 
my army and give me his blessing. Seeing 
him therefore this day I both thank the God whose 


2i8 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


servant he is for that which I have already attained, 
and beseech Him that I may attain yet more, even 
the fulfilment of all that is in my heart.” 

A solemn entry into the Temple, a sacrifice con- 
ducted by the king according to the High Priest’s 
directions, and the offering of some splendid gifts 
to the treasury followed, and the king did not fail 
to enforce his compliments by conferring on his new 
subjects substantial privileges. The Jews were 
henceforth to live under their own law:s ; every 
seventh year, as they reaped no harvests, they were 
to pay no tribute; the same immunity was to be 
extended to all of Jewish race that might be found 
within the borders of the Persian kingdom. The 
High Priest, on the other hand, engaged to furnish a 
contingent from his nation for the Macedonian army. 
He only stipulated, and the king readily agreed, that 
the recruits should not be required to do anything 
that might be at variance with the law which they 
were bound to observe. 

These matters concluded, Charidemus was sum- 
moned to the royal presence. 

^‘Are you bent,” asked the king, ‘‘on going with 
me into Egypt?” 

“To tell you the truth, my lord,” answered the 
young man, “I had not thought of it one way or the 
other.” 

“Well,” said Alexander, “I have something for 
you to do here. First, you will take charge of the 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


2ig 

queen, who does not wish to travel just now. Then 
I want you to recruit and drill some of these sturdy 
Jews for me. They look like fine stuff for soldiers; 
and, if they are anything like their fathers, they 
should fight well. The High Priest thinks that you 
will do best in the Galilee country, where the people 
are not quite so stiff about their law. But you can 
settle these matters with Hephaestion, who knows 
my mind,’' 

Queen Barsine, who wa)s expecting shortly to 
become a mother, had made interest with the king 
to have the young Macedonian put in charge of her 
establishment, partly because she had great con- 
fidence in him, partly because she had a kindly 
interest in his attachment to her niece, a feeling 
which, of course, had not escaped her quick woman’s 
eyes. 

The eight months that followed were, perhaps, the 
happiest that our hero ever enjoyed. A little walled 
town on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee had 
been chosen for Barsine’s residence during her 
husband’s absence in Egypt, and Charidemus was 
appointed its governor. He was in command of a 
garrison of some hundred and fifty men, and had a 
couple of light galleys at his disposal. His duties 
were of the lightest. Two or three veterans, who 
had grown a little too old to carry the pike, drilled 
under his superintendence a couple of thousand 
sturdy Galilaean peasants, who had eagerly answered 


220 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


the summons to enlist under the great conqueror’s 
banners. This work finished, he had the rest of his 
time at his own disposal. The more of it he could 
contrive to spend with Clearista, the happier of 
course he was. As long as the summer lasted, and, 
indeed, far into the autumn, there were frequent 
excursions on the lake, Clearista being accompanied 
by her gouvernante, the daughter of a Laconian 
farmer, who had been with her from her infancy. 
The waters then as now abounded with fish, and 
Charidemus was delighted to teach his fair com- 
panion some of the secrets of the angler’s craft. As 
the year advanced there was plenty of game to be 
found in the forests of the eastern shore. The young 
Macedonian was a skilful archer, and could bring 
down a running deer without risk of injuring the 
choice portions of the flesh by an ill-aimed shaft. 
He found a keener delight in pursuing the fiercer 
creatures that haunted the oak glades of Bashan, 
and many were the trophies, won from wild boar 
and wolf and bear, that, to the mingled terror and 
delight of Clearista, he used to bring back from his 
hunting excursions. Nor were books wholly for- 
gotten. Charidemus had always had some of a 
student’s taste, and Barsine had imparted to her 
niece some of her own love of culture. The young 
soldier even began — so potent an inspirer is love — to 
have literary ambitions. He wrote, but was too 
shy to exhibit, poems about his lady’s virtues and 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


221 


beauty. He even conceived a scheme of celebrating 
the victories of Alexander in an heroic poem, and 
carried it out to the extent of composing some five or 
six hundred hexameters which he read to the 
admiring Clearista. Unfortunately they have been 
lost along with other treasures of antiquity, and I 
am unable to give my readers a specimen. 

Meanwhile little or nothing in which he would 
have cared to have a part had been happening else- 
where. Alexander’s march through Egypt was not 
a campaign, but a triumphal procession. The 
Persian satrap had made no attempt at resistance, 
and the population gladly welcomed their new 
masters. They hated the Persians, who scorned and 
insulted their religion, and eagerly turned to the 
more tolerant Greek. So the country was annexed 
without a blow being struck. Grand functions of 
sacrifice, in which Alexander was careful to do espe- 
cial honour to Egyptian deities, with splendid recep- 
tions and banquets, fully occupied the time; and then 
there was the more useful labour of beginning a work 
which has been the most permanent monument of 
the conqueror’s greatness, the foundation of the city 
of Alexandria. Charondas, who was attached to the 
king’s personal suite, kept his friend informed of 
events by letters which reached him with fair regu- 
larity. I shall give an extract from one of these 
because it records the most important incident of the 
sojourn in Egypt. 


222 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


Charondas to Charidemus, greeting. 

‘‘ I have just returned safe — thanks to the gods — 
from a journey which I thought more than once 
likely to be my last. Know that the king conceived 
a desire to visit the Temple of Zeus Ammon, where 
there is an oracle famous for being the most truth- 
speaking in the world. Not even the Pythia at 
Delphi — so it is said — more clearly foresees the 
future, and a more important matter, it must be con- 
fessed, more plainly expounds what she foresees. 
The king took with him some five thousand men, 
many more, in my judgment, than it was expedient 
to take, seeing that the enemy most to be dreaded in 
such an expedition, to wit, thirst, is one more easily 
to be encountered by a few than by a multitude. At 
the first we marched westwards, keeping close to the 
sea, through a region that is desolate indeed, and 
void of inhabitants, but rather because it has been 
neglected by men than because it refuses to receive 
them. There are streams, some of which, it is said, 
do not fail even when the summer is hottest, and in 
some places grass, and in many shrubs. Thus we 
journeyed without difficulty for a distance of about 
i,6oo stadia.^ Then we turned southward ; and 
here began our difficulties and dangers. The diffi- 
culty always is to find the right way, for such a track 
as there is will often be altogether hidden in a very 
short space of time ; and so it was with us. The 

^ Nearly two hundred miles. 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


223 


danger is lest the traveller, so wandering from the 
way, should perish of hunger and thirst, for it is not 
possible that he should carry much provision with 
him. How, then, you will ask, did we escape ? 
Truly I cannot answer except by saying that it was 
through the good fortune of Alexander, not without 
the intervention of some Divine power. Many mar- 
vellous things were told me about the means by 
which we were guided on our way. Some averred 
that two serpents, of monstrous size, went before the 
army, uttering cries not unlike to human speech. 
Of these I can only aver that I neither saw nor 
heard them, and that I have had no speech with any 
that did see or hear, although not a few have borne 
witness to them second-hand, affirming that they had 
heard the story from those that had been eye- 
witnesses. The same I am constrained to say con- 
cerning the ravens which some declared to have been 
guides to the army. I saw them not, nor know any 
that did see them. But I had some converse with 
a native of these parts who was hired to be our 
guide. This man, I found, trusted neither to ser- 
pents, whether dumb or not, nor to ravens, but to the 
stars. And I noticed that he was much perplexed 
and troubled by what seemed a matter of rejoicing to 
the rest of us, namely, that the sky became overcast 
with clouds. We were rejoiced by the rain which 
assured us that we should not perish of thirst ; but 
he complained that his guides were taken from him. 


224 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


Nevertheless, as the clouds were sometimes broken, 
he was not wholly deprived of the help in which he 
trusted. 

Let it suffice, then, to say that we got safely to 
our journey’s end, not without assistance from the 
gods. No more beautiful place have I seen, though 
doubtless my pleasure in seeing it was the greater by 
reason of the desolation of the region through which 
we had passed. It is, as it were, an island in the 
sand, nowhere more than forty stadia across, covered 
with olives and palms, and watered by a spring, the 
marvels of which, unlike the serpents and the ravens, 
I can affirm of my own knowledge. That it is coldest 
at noonday and hottest at midnight, I have myself 
found by touching it. Or was this, you will perhaps 
say, by contrast only, because my own body was sub- 
ject to exactly the opposite disposition ? It may be 
so ; nevertheless in such matters common tradition 
and belief are not wholly without value. 

You will ask, What said the Oracle ? To the 
king it said that without doubt he was the son of 
Ammon ; to others that they would do well, if 
they reverenced him as being such. Whether more 
be intended by this than what Homer says of 
Achilles and other great heroes that they were Zeus- 
descended I cannot say. Many take it to be so, and 
some are not a little displeased. Last night I heard 
two soldiers talking together on this matter. ‘ Com- 
rade,’ said one to the other, ‘ if I had King Philip 


THE HIGH PRIEST 


225 


for my father, I should be content, nor seek another.’ 
‘ Aye,’ returned the other, ‘ thou sayest true. If 
Alexander be the chicken, truly Philip was the egg.’ 
‘ But now,’ the first speaker went on, * but now they 
say that the king’s father was this Ammon. Didst 
ever see such a god ? It is like a Pan with the goat- 
part uppermost. And who ever heard talk of a hero 
that had Pan for his father? Nay, nay, I would liefer 
have a plain honest Macedonian for my father, so he 
had head and legs like a man, than all the Ammons 
in the world.’ So many talk in the camp, though 
there are some who are ready to say and do anything 
that may bring advancement. But these are dangerous 
matters to trust even to paper. We will talk of 
them, if need be, when we meet. Till then, fare- 


CHAPTER XX 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 

The pleasant sojourn on the shores of the Sea of 
Galilee came to an end in the early summer of the 
following year. Charidemus was summoned to meet 
the king at Tyre, where he was intending to complete 
his plans for his next campaign, a campaign that 
would, he hoped, be decisive. And it was arranged 
that the young man’s charges should accompany 
him. Alexander had fixed on another residence for 
his wife and child. (Barsine, it should be said, had 
given birth to a son in the early part of the winter.) 
His choice had fallen on Pergamos, one of the 
strongest fortresses in his dominions. The fact is 
that schemes of conquest were opening up before 
him which he felt would occupy him for many years. 
The next campaign would complete the conquest of 
Persia proper, but the eastern provinces would re- 
main to be subdued, and after these, India, and after 
India the rest, it might be said, of the habitable 
world, for nothing less would satisfy his vast am- 
bition. In Barsine’s son he had an heir, possibly 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 2^^ 

not the heir who would succeed him, but still one 
who might be called to do so. To place him in safety 
was a desirable thing, and Pergamos, which was not 
far from the coast of the iEgean, with its almost 
impregnable citadel, seemed an eligible spot. 

Charidemus’s instructions were to make the best 
of his way with his charges to Pergamos, and to 
rejoin the army with all speed, a fast-sailing Sidonian 
vessel being assigned for the service. Both voyages 
were accomplished with unusual speed. But it is 
probable that in any case the first, made in such 
delightful company, would have seemed too short ; 
the second, with a decisive and exciting campaign in 
view, too long. 

It was early in May when Charidemus left Tyre, 
and the end of July, when, having accomplished his 
mission, he landed again at Sidon. Hore he was met 
by an invitation to the palace, where he had the plea- 
sure of meeting Charondas. The young man had been 
left behind when Alexander set out, to complete his 
recovery from an attack of illness. King Abdalony- 
mus hospitably pressed the friends to prolong their 
stay with him for some days. Charondas, he said, 
would be better for a little more rest, while Chari- 
demus wanted refreshment after his double voyage. 
At any other time the offer would have been gladly 
accepted, for Abdalonymus was a very striking 
personage. He had been little more than a day 
labourer when he was suddenly raised to the throne ; 


228 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 


but power had done nothing to spoil him. He was 
as frugal and temperate as ever ; and he kept, rarest 
of possessions in a palace, his common sense. The 
two friends, however, were eager to set out. The 
army had already had ten days’ start of them, and 
the bare idea of any decisive battle being fought 
before they had come up with it was intolerable. 

They were on horseback at dawn the next morn- 
ing. Their road was up the valley of the Leontes, 
and then, turning eastward, between the ranges of 
Lebanon and Anti- Lebanon. So far as the great 
ford over the Euphrates at Thapsacus there could be 
no question as to their route. Practically there was 
only one way, and that was the one which the army 
had taken. Arrived at the ford they found that they 
had gained three days. A week still remained to be 
made up, and this it seemed easy enough to do at 
the cost of some extra labour and, possibly, a little 
risk. Darius, it was known, had gathered a vast host 
more numerous even than that which had been 
routed at Issus, and was going to make a final 
struggle for his throne. His whereabouts was not 
exactly known, but it was certainly somewhere to 
the eastward of the Tigris, which river would pro- 
bably be made his first line of defence. Anxious to 
make his march as little exhausting as possible to 
his men, Alexander had taken a somewhat circuitous 
line, turning first to the north, in the direction of the 
Armenian mountains, then striking eastward, and 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 22g 

touching the Tigris at its lowest ford, some thirty 
miles above Nineveh. To go straight from Thap- 
sacus to this point would be to save no little time, 
if it could be done. The two friends resolved to 
make the experiment. 

The first day passed without adventure. The 
travellers did not see a human creature from morn- 
ing to evening, and had to spend the night under a 
terebinth, with no more refreshment than the food 
which they had had the forethought to carry with 
them, and a scanty draught of very muddy water. 
Their halting-place on the second day seemed to 
promise much better entertainment. As they drew 
rein beside an inviting looking clump of trees they 
were accosted by a venerable stranger, who, in 
broken but intelligible Greek, offered them hospi- 
tality for the night. Their host showed them a 
small tent where they would sleep, and made them 
understand that he should be glad of their company 
at his own evening meal. Half-an-hour afterwards 
they sat down to a fairly well-dressed supper, a lamb 
which had been killed in their honour, barley cakes 
baked on the embers, and palm wine. There was 
not much conversation, for the old sheikh’s stock of 
phrases did not go very far, and the two somewhat 
sullen looking youths who made up the company, 
seemed not to know a word of any language but 
their own. When the host found that the strangers 
declined his offer to try another skin of palm-wine, 


230 FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 

he smilingly wished them good-night. One of the 
silent young men showed them to their tent, and 
they were left to repose. 

The hour was still early, and the friends did not 
feel inclined for sleep. Both had a good deal to say 
to each other. Besides personal topics they had to 
talk about the prospects of the war, and that a war 
which seemed to promise adventures of the most 
exciting kind. It must have been about an hour 
short of midnight when, just as they were thinking 
of lying down for the night, their attention was 
attracted by a slight noise at the tent door. 
Charondas going, lamp in hand, to see what it 
meant started back in horror at the sight that met 
his eyes. A dwarfish looking man stood, or rather 
crouched before him. His figure was bent almost 
double by bodily infirmity, it would seem, rather 
than by age. The long black hair streaked with 
grey, that fell on his shoulders was rough and un- 
kempt, his dress was ragged and filthy. But the 
horror of the poor wretch’s appearance was in the 
mutilation which had been practised upon him. His 
ears had been cut off ; his nostrils had been cropped 
as close as the knife could shear them, his right arm 
had been cut short at the elbow, and his left leg at 
the knee. 

“ Let me speak with you,*’ said the stranger, “ if 
you can bear awhile with a sight so hideous.” 

He spoke in pure Greek, and with the accent of 
an educated man. 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 


231 


Speak on,” said Charidemus, ‘‘ we feel nothing 
but pity for a countryman who has been unhappy ; ” 
and he took the sufferer’s hand in his own, and 
pressed it with a friendly grasp. 

“ I am come to warn you,” said the visitor, “ but 
if I do not first tell you my story you will scarce 
believe me.” 

He paused overcome with emotion. 

“ I am a native of Crotona, and belonged to a 
family of physicians. We reckoned among our 
ancestors the great Democedes, whom the first Darius, 
as you may remember, honoured and enriched.^ 
Some political troubles with which I need not weary 
you compelled me to leave my country, and I settled 


* Democedes was a physician of Crotona, whose services were 
engaged by the cities of ^gina and Athens and by Polycrates, Tyrant 
of Samos, in succession, at increasing salaries (;^ 344 , £406, £4S7 los.). 
He was taken prisoner in company with Polycrates and sent up to 
Susa. Here he remained for a time unnoticed among the king’s slaves. 
Darius chanced to sprain his ankle, in leaping from his horse, and the 
Egyptian physicians who were called in failed to effect a cure. Some 
courtier had chanced to hear that Polycrates had had a famous physician 
in attendance on him, and suggested that his advice should be asked. 
He was brought as he was, “ clothed in rags and clanking his chains,” 
into the king’s presence. It was only under threat of torture that he 
confessed his knowledge of medicine. But he treated the injury with 
success, and was amply rewarded, the king giving him two pairs of 
golden chains, and each of the royal wives dipping a saucer into a chest 
of gold coins and pouring the contents into his hands so bountifully that 
the slave who followed him was enriched by the stray pieces. He after- 
wards healed Atossa, Darius’s principal queen, of a dangerous carbuncle. 
By a stratagem which I have not space here to describe he got back to 
his native city, where he married the daughter of the great athlete Milo, 
and finally settled. 


232 FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 

at Ephesus. There I did well enough, till in an evi! 
hour I was sent for to prescribe for the satrap of 
Phrygia. I had acquired, I may say, some reputa- 
tion for myself, but my name — it is the same as that 
of my great ancestor — did far more for me. It has 
made, indeed, the fortune of many a physician of our 
nation. Well, I cured the satrap, who indeed had 
nothing worse the matter with him than too much 
meat and drink. He was very grateful, and bribed 
me by the promise of a great salary — three hundred 
minas,^ if you will believe me, gentlemen,” explained 
the poor wretch with a lingering feeling of pride in 
his professional success, ‘‘ he bribed me, I say, to go 
with him when he returned to court. For a time all 
went well ; then a favourite slave fell ill. The poor 
lad was in a consumption ; not iEsculapius himself 
could have cured him ; and I could do nothing for 
him, but make his end easy. Masistius — that was 
my employer’s name — was in a furious rage. He 
maimed me in the cruel way you see, and sold me 
for a slave.” 

‘‘ What ! you a free-born Greek,” exclaimed the 
young men with one voice. 

‘‘ Yes,” replied the man, “and ’tis no uncommon 
experience, as you will find when you get further 
into the country. Yes ; there are hundreds of Greeks 
who have suffered the same horrors as you see in me. 


* About £1,220, 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 233 

Well ; he sold me as a slave to the villain whose 
meat you have been eating to-night.” 

** Do you call him villain ?” said Charidemus in 
surprise. He seemed kind and hospitable enough.” 

‘‘Aye, he seems,” replied the man, “that is part 
of his craft. But for all his amiable looks, he is 1 
robber and a murderer. He makes it his business 
to do away with guests whom he entertains as he 
has entertained you. Commonly he plies them with 
his accursed palm-wine till they fall into a drunken 
sleep. When that fails, they are stabbed or 
strangled. One or two I have contrived to warn; 
but they generally prevent me from coming near the 
the poor wretches.” 

“ That is brave of you,” said one of the young 
men. 

“ Oh ! ” was the answer, “ I deserve no credit, I 
am weary of my life, and should be thankful if they 
would put an end to it, though a sort of hope pre- 
vents me from doing it myself. And yet what hope! ” 
he went on in a lower tone, “ what can a mutilated 
wretch such as I am hope for but to escape from the 
sight of my fellow men ? But they leave me alone ; 
I am too valuable to them to be injured. The 
wretches are never ill themselves, but they set me 
to cure their cattle and sheep, and I save them a 
great deal more than the miserable pittance of food 
and drink which they give me. But now for what 
concerns yourselves. The wretch will send his 


234 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 


assassins — those two brutal-looking sons mostly do 
his work for him — about the end of the third watch ^ 
when a man commonly sleeps his soundest. So you 
have two hours and more before you. Your horses 
are picketed at the other end of the grove from that 
by which you entered, not where you saw them 
fastened, that was only done to deceive you. It is 
just where you see the moon showing itself above 
the trees. Get to them as quietly as you can, and 
then ride for your lives. But mind, go westward, 
that is, back along the way you came. In about an 
hour's time turn sharp to the north. Another hour 
will bring you to a little stream ; cross that, and after 
you have gone some thousand paces you will come 
to another clump of trees very like this. Another 
Sheikh has his encampment there ; I am not sure 
but that he does a little robbery and murder on his 
own account ; but just now he has the merit of being 
at daggers drawn with his neighbour here. And he 
has a kindness for me, for I cured his favourite horse ; 
and if you mention my name to him, I am sure that 
he will treat you well. And now, farewell ! ” 

What can we do for you ? " said Charidemus, 
“ we are on our way to join the great Alexander ; it 
is such wrongs as yours that he has come to redress.” 

“ Do for me ! ” cried the unhappy man, in a tone 
of inexpressible bitterness ; forget that you have 
ever seen me. I should be sorry that any but you 

* Between two and three in the morning. 


FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 


235 


should know that Democedes has suffered such 
wrongs, and yet has been willing to live. But stay 
— I would gladly see that villain Masistius crucified, 
if he is still alive, as indeed I trust he is ; and you 
will remember your kind and venerable host of to- 
night. And now, again, farewell ! ” 

The two friends lost no time in making their way 
to the spot whence they were to find their horses. A 
man had been set to watch the animals. Happily 
for the fugitives he had fallen asleep. It went 
against the grain with them, generous young fellows 
as they were, to kill him in his slumber ; but, unless 
they were to alarm the encampment, they had no 
alternative. His employment, too, showed that he 
was in the plot. It was not in their owners’ interest 
that he had been set to watch the horses. With 
half-averted face Charondas dealt him the fatal blow, 
and he died without a struggle or a groan. A short 
time was spent, for the advantage seemed worth the 
delay, in muffling the horses’ hoofs. That done, 
they rode back, quietly at first and then at full speed, 
by the road by which they had come, till it was time, 
as they judged, for them to turn off. The day had 
dawned when they reached the other encampment. 
The name of Democedes proved as good an intro- 
duction to the chief as they could wish. When he 
further learnt that his guests were officers on their 
way to join the army of the great Alexander, he was 
profuse in his offers of help and entertainment. 


236 FROM TYRE TO THE TIGRIS 

They accepted an escort of horsemen who should 
see them well out of the reach of their treacherous 
host, and under their protection and guidance 
reached a district where no further danger was to be 
apprehended. It was with no small pleasure that at 
the very moment when the Tigris came in sight their 
eyes caught the glitter of arms in the distance. 
The vanguard of the Macedonian army was filing 
down the slopes that led to the ford. 


CHAPTER XXI 


ARBELA 

These Persians must be either very much fright- 
ened or very bold, if they have nothing to say to us 
at such a place as this.” 

Such in substance was what every one in the 
Macedonian army was saying or thinking as they 
struggled through the dangerous and difficult ford of 
the Tigris. It was indeed a crossing which even a 
few resolute men posted on the opposite shore would 
have made disastrous, if not impossible, to the 
advancing army. The stream was at its lowest — the 
time was about two-thirds through the month of 
September — but the rapid current fully justified the 
name of the Arrow,” for such is the meaning of 
the word Tigris.^ The cavalry, keeping as steady a 
line as they could across the upper part of the ford, 
did their best to break the force of the stream, but 

* “Its name,” says Curtius, “ is given to it from its rapidity, for 
in the Persian tongue Tigris is the word for an arrow ” (iv. 9, 16). 
The Biblical word Chiddekel or Hiddekel (Genesis ii. 14) is said 
to be compounded of two forms Chid or Hid^ “ river,” and dekcl an 
arrow. 


238 


ARBELA 


did not save the infantry from a vast amount of 
labour and some loss. In their lances and armour, 
not to speak of other accoutrements, the men had to 
carry an enormous weight ; they trod on a river-bed 
of shifting stones, and the water was nearly up to 
their necks. If a man stumbled it was very difficult 
for him to recover his footing, and it was only the 
exceptionally strong who could do anything to help a 
comrade in difficulties. It was already dark when 
the last lines painfully struggled up the slippery bank 
on the eastern side of the river. The depression of 
spirits caused by fatigue and discomfort were aggra- 
vated by the portent of an eclipse. The soldiers 
saw with dismay the brilliant moon, for whose help 
in arranging their bivouac they had been so thankful, 
swallowed up, as it seemed, by an advancing dark- 
ness, and they drew the gloomiest omens from the 
sight. But Alexander was equal to the occasion. 
A disciple of Aristotle, the greatest natural philoso- 
pher of the ancient world, he knew the cause of the 
phenomenon, but as a practical man, whose business 
it was to understand the natures with which he had 
to deal, he knew also that a scientific explanation of 
that cause would be useless, Aristander the sooth- 
sayer was directed to reassure the terrified multitude 
with something more adapted to their wants; and he 
did not fail to produce it. ^‘The moon,’’ he said, 
“ was the special patron of Persia, as the sun is of 
Greece, It is to the Persian now as more than once 


AkBELA 


m 

before that the eclipsed moon portends defeat.” This 
reassuring explanation was eagerly listened to, and 
when, after the sacrifices of the next day, sacrifices 
with which Alexander impartially honoured sun, 
moon, and earth, Aristander confidently declared 
that the appearance of the victims indicated certain, 
speedy, and complete victory, he was readily 
believed. ‘‘ Before the new moon shall be visible,” 
he boldly predicted, the kingdom of Persia shall 
have fallen,” 

That the final struggle was at hand was soon put 
beyond a doubt. Towards the close of the sixth day 
after the passage of the Tigris — two days out of the 
six had been allowed for repose — some Persian 
troopers were espied in the distance. The king 
himself at once started in pursuit, taking the best 
mounted squadron of his cavalry with him. Most 
of the enemy escaped, but some were taken, perhaps 
allowed themselves to be taken, for Darius’s disas- 
trous cowardice at Issus had weakened his hold on 
the fidelity of his subjects. From these men Alex- 
ander learnt all that he wanted to know. Darius 
had collected a host far larger even than that which 
had fought at Issus. The contingents of which it 
was composed came indeed chiefly from the remoter 
east. Western Asia had passed out of the Great 
King’s power and was added to the resources of the 
invader ; but the eastern provinces from the Caspian 
to the Persian Gulf and even to the Indus were still 


ARBELA 


1240 

faithful to him. The town of Arbela * had been 
named as the rendezvous of the army, and there 
the magazines and baggage had been located ; but 
the place chosen as the battle-field, where Darius 
would meet his enemy on ground selected by himself, 
was Gaugamela, a village some ten miles east of 
Nineveh, and situated on a wide and treeless plain, 
on which the Persian engineers had levelled even 
such slopes as there were. At Issus they had fought 
in a defile where their vastly superior numbers could 
not be utilized ; on the vast level of the Babylonian 
plains every man, horse, and chariot could be 
brought into action. 

Alexander saw that he must fight the enemy on 
their own ground, and took his measures accordingly. 
Daring as he was — he knew that he had to deal with 
Asiatics — he threw away no chance, and neglected 
no precaution. On hearing what the prisoners had 
to say about the force and position of the enemy, he 
called a halt, and ordered the construction of an 
entrenched camp. Here the soldiers had four days’ 
repose. After sunset on the fourth day he gave the 
signal to advance. His intention was to attack the 
enemy at daybreak, but the ground over which he 
had to pass presented so many difficulties that when 
the day dawned he was still three miles distant from 
the hostile lines. 

* Now Erbil, a station on the caravan-route between Erzeroum and 
Baghdad. 


ARBELA 


241 


The sight of them made him hesitate and recon- 
sider his plans. Though he did not doubt of victory, 
he saw that victory was not to be won by a hap- 
hazard attack. And indeed it was a formidable array 
that stretched itself before him, as far as the eye 
could reach, or at least as far as the eye could dis- 
tinguish anything with clearness. On the extreme 
right were the Syrians, the Medes, once the ruling 
people of Western Asia and still mindful of their 
old renown, the Parthian cavalry, and the sturdy 
mountaineers of the Caucasus ; on the opposite 
wing were the Bactrians, hill men for the most part, 
and famous for fierceness and activity, and the native 
Persians, horse and foot in alternate formation. But 
it was in the centre of the line, round the person of 
Darius, where he stood conspicuous on his royal 
chariot, that the choicest troops of the empire were 
congregated. Here were ranged the Persian Horse- 
guards, a force levied from the noblest families of 
the dominant people, and distinguished by the proud 
title of the ‘‘Kinsmen of the King;’’ and the Foot- 
guards, also a corps d'elite, who carried golden 
apples at the butt end of their pikes. Next to these 
stood the Carians, men of a race which had shown 
itself more apt than any other Asiatic tribe to learn 
Greek discipline and rival Greek valour ; and next to 
these again, the Greek mercenaries themselves. 

In front of the line were the scythed chariots, 
numbering two hundred in all, each with its sharp- 


24 ^ 


ARBELA 


pointed sides projecting far beyond the horses, and its 
sword-blades and scythes stretching from the yoke 
and from the naves of the wheels. Behind the line, 
again, was a huge mixed multitude, drawn from 
every tribe that owned the Great King’s sway. 

So formidable was the host, and so strong its 
position that Alexander halted to take counsel with 
his generals how the attack might be most advan- 
tageously delivered. A new entrenched camp was 
constructed, and the rest of the day was spent in 
carefully reconnoitring the enemy’s forces. Some 
of the most experienced officers — Parmenio among 
them — suggested a night attack. Alexander rejected 
the proposal with scorn. Raising his voice that he 
might be heard by the soldiers, who were crowding 
round the tent where the council was held, he cried, 

This might suit thieves and robbers, but it does 
not suit me. I will not tarnish my fame by such 
stratagems, for I prefer defeat with honour to a 
victory so won. Besides I know that such an attack 
would fail. The barbarians keep a regular watch ; 
and they have their men under arms. It is we, not 
they, who would be thrown into confusion. I am for 
open war.” 

And this, of course, was the last word. 

The next morning the Macedonian king drew out 
his order of battle. As usual he put himself at the 
head of the right wing. This was made up of the 
Companion Cavalry, under the immediate command 


ARBELA 


243 


of Philotas, son of Parmenio, with next to them the 
light infantry, and three of the six divisions of the 
Phalanx. The three other divisions, with a strong 
body of cavalry from the allied Greek states, formed 
the left wing, commanded as usual by Parmenio. 

But behind the first line of the army stood another 
in reserve. Frequent reinforcements had not only 
enabled the king to supply all losses, but had also 
largely increased his numbers. The thirty thousand 
infantry which had been brought into action at the 
Granicus had now grown to forty thousand, the four 
thousand five hundred cavalry to seven thousand. It 
was thus easier to have a reserve, while the nature 
of the battle-field made it more necessary, for attacks 
on the flanks and rear of the main line might pro- 
bably have to be repelled. This second line consisted 
of the light cavalry, the Macedonian archers, 
contingents from some of the half-barbarian tribes 
which bordered on Macedonia, some veteran Greek 
mercenaries, and other miscellaneous troops. Some 
Thracian infantry were detached to guard the camp 
and the baggage. 

The Persians, with their vastly superior numbers, 
were of course extended far beyond the Macedonian 
line. Left to make the attack, they might have 
easily turned the flanks and even the rear of their 
opponents. Alexander seeing this, and following the 
tactics which had twice proved so successful, 
assumed the offensive. He put himself at the head 


244 


ARBELA 


of the Companion Cavalry on the extreme right of his 
army, and led them forward in person, still keeping 
more and more to the right, and thus threatening 
the enemy with the very movement which he had 
himself reason to dread. He thus not only avoided the 
iron spikes which, as a deserter had warned him, had 
been set to injure the Macedonian cavalry, but almost 
got beyond the ground which the Persians had 
caused to be levelled for the operations of their 
chariots. Fearful at once of being outflanked and 
of finding his chariots made useless, Darius launched 
some Bactrian and Scythian cavalry against the 
advancing enemy. Alexander, on his part, detached 
some cavalry of his own to charge the Bactrians and 
the action began. 

The Bactrians commenced with a success, driving 
in the Greek horsemen. These fell back on their 
supports, and advancing again in increased force 
threw the Bactrians into confusion. Squadron after 
squadron joined the fray till a considerable part of the 
Macedonian right wing and of the Persian left were 
engaged. The Persians were beginning to give way, 
when Darius saw, as he thought, the time for bring- 
ing his scythed chariots into action, and gave the 
word for them to charge, and for his main line to 
advance behind them. The charge was made, but 
failed, almost entirely, of its effect. The Macedonian 
archers and javelin throwers wounded many of the 
horses ; some agile skirmishers even contrived to 


ARBELA 


H5 


seize the reins, and pull down the drivers from their 
places. Other chariots got as far as the Macedonian 
line, but recoiled from the pikes ; and the few whose 
drivers were lucky enough or bold enough to break 
their way through all the hindrances were allowed to 
pass between the Macedonian lines, without being 
able to inflict any damage. As a whole, the charge 
failed. 

Then Alexander delivered his counter attack. He 
ceased his movement to the right. Then, wheeling 
half round, his Companion Cavalry dashed into the 
Persian line at the spot where the Bactrians, by their 
advance, had broken its order. At the same time, 
his own main line raised the battle cry, and moved 
forward. Once within the enemy’s ranks he pushed 
straight for the point where, as he knew, the battle 
would be decided, the chariot of the king. The first 
defence of that all-important position was the Persian 
cavalry. Better at skirmishing than at hand-to-hand 
fighting, it broke before his onslaught. Still there 
remained troops to be reckoned with who might have 
made the fortune of the day doubtful, the flower of 
the Persian foot and the veteran Greeks. For a short 
time these men stood their ground ; they might have 
stood it longer, but for the same disastrous cause 
that had brought about the defeat of Issus, the 
cowardice of King Darius. He had been dismayed 
to see his chariots fail and his cavalry broken by the 
charge of the Companions, and he lost heart 


246 


ARBELA 


altogether when the dreaded Phalanx itself with its 
bristling array of pikes seemed to be forcing his 
infantry apart, and coming nearer to himself. He 
turned his chariot and fled ; the first, when he should 
have been the last, to leave his post.^ 

The flight of the king was the signal for a general 
rout, as far, at least, as the left wing and centre of 
the Persian host were concerned. It was no longer 
a battle ; it was a massacre. Alexander pressed 
furiously on, eager to capture the fugitive Darius. 
But the very completeness of his victory, it may be 
said, hindered him. So headlong was the flight that 
the dust, which, after months of burning summer 
heat, lay thick upon the plain, rose like the smoke of 
some vast conflagration. The darkness was as the 
darkness of night. Nothing could be heard but cries 
of fury or despair, the jingling of the chariot reins, 
and the sound of the whips which the terrified 
charioteers plied with all their might. 

Nor, indeed, was Alexander permitted to continue 
the pursuit as long as he could have wished. Though 
the precipitate flight of Darius had brought the 
conflict on the Persian left to a speedy end, the right 
had fought with better fortune. Mazaeus, who was, 
perhaps, the ablest of the Persian generals, was 
in command, and knew how to employ his superiority 

* So Arrian says, writing with the two contemporary memoirs of 
Alexander’s generals before him. These two were Ptolemy, afterwards 
King of Egypt, and Aristobulus, a soldier of considerable repute. 


ARBELA 


247 


of numbers. While the sturdy Mediate infantry en- 
gaged Parmenio’s front line, Mazaeus put himself at 
the head of the Parthian horse and charged his 
flank. Parmenio was so hard pressed that he sent 
an orderly to the king with an urgent demand for 
help. Alexander was greatly vexed at receiving it, 
feeling that any chance that remained of capturing 
the person of Darius, a most important matter in 
his eyes, was now hopelessly lost. But he knew his 
business as a general too well — being as cautious 
when the occasion demanded as he was bold when 
boldness was expedient — to neglect the demand of 
so experienced an officer as Parmenio. He at once 
called back his troops from the pursuit, and led them 
to the relief of the left wing. Parmenio had sent 
the same message to the left division of the phalanx, 
which, though under his command, had actually 
taken part in the advance made by the right division. 
These, too, prepared to come to his assistance. 

Before, however, the help thus demanded could be 
given, the need for it had almost ceased to exist. 
On the one hand, the Thessalian cavalry had proved 
themselves worthy of their old reputation as the best 
horsemen in Greece. Held during the earlier part 
of the engagement in reserve, they had made a 
brilliant charge on the Parthians, and more than 
restored the fortune of the day And then, on the 
other hand, Mazaeus and his men had felt the same 
infection of fear which the flight of Darius had 


AUBELA 


248 

communicated to the rest of the army. The con- 
spicuous figure which was the centre of all their 
hopes had disappeared, and they had nothing to fight 
for. Parmenio felt the vigour of the enemy’s attack 
languish, though he did not know the cause, and he 
had had the satisfaction of recovering and more than 
recovering his ground before any reinforcements 
reached him. 

Strangely enough it was in the very last hour of 
the battle, when nothing could have changed the 
issue of the fight, that the fiercest conflict of the 
whole day occurred. The cavalry, mainly Parthian, 
as has been said, but with some squadrons of Indian 
and Persian horse among them, which had won a 
partial victory over Parmenio’s division, encountered 
in their retreat across the field of battle, Alexander 
himself and the Companions. Their only hope of 
escape was to cut their way through the advancing 
force. It was no time for the usual cavalry tactics. 
Every man was fighting for his life, and he fought 
with a fury that made him a match even for Mace- 
donian discipline and valour. And they had among 
them also some of the most expert swordsmen in the 
world. Anyhow, the Companions suffered more 
severely than they did in any other engagement of 
the war. As many as sixty were slain in the 
course of a few minutes ; three of the principal 
officers, Hephaestion being one of them, were 
wounded ; and Alexander himself was more than 


AliBELA 


249 


once in serious danger. It is not easy to say what 
might have been the result if the chief thought of 
the Persians had not been to cut their way through 
and save themselves. Those who succeeded in doing 
this did not think of turning to renew the fight, but 
galloped off as hard as they could. 

Yet another success was achieved by the Persians 
in the extreme rear of the Macedonian army. The 
wheeling movement of the left companies of the 
phalanx to help Parmenio had left a gap in the line. 
A brigade of Indian and Persian horse plunged 
through this gap, and attacked the camp. The 
Thracians who had been left to guard it were 
probably not very reliable troops, and they were 
hampered by the number of prisoners over whom 
they had to keep watch. Many of these prisoners 
contrived to free themselves. The chief object of 
the attack was to liberate the mother of Darius (the 
king’s wife had died a few weeks before, worn out 
with grief and fatigue). This object might have 
been attained but for the unwillingness of the lady 
herself. Whether she was afraid to trust herself to 
her deliverers, or despaired of making her escape, or 
was unwilling to leave Alexander, it is certain that 
she refused to go. Meanwhile, some troops from the 
second line had come to the rescue of the camp, and 
the assailants had to save themselves as best they 
could. 

Alexander, his fierce struggle with the retreating 


250 


ARBELA 


cavalry over, was free to renew his pursuit of Darius. 
The Persian king had reached the Lycus,i a river 
about ten miles from the battle-field. His attendants 
strongly urged him to have the bridge which spanned 
the stream broken down, and so delay the conqueror's 
pursuit. But, though his courage had failed him at 
the near sight of the Macedonian spears, he was not 
altogether base. He thought of the multitudes 
whom the breaking of the bridge would doom to 
certain death, and determined to leave it standing. 
It was dark before Alexander reached the river, and 
the cavalry was by that time so wearied that a few 
hours’ rest was a necessity. Accordingly he called a 
halt, and it was not till midnight that he resumed 
the pursuit Even then many had to be left behind, 
their horses being wholly unfit for service. With the 
rest the king pushed on to Arbela, where he thought 
it possible that he might capture Darius. In this 
he was disappointed. Darius had halted in the town 
only so long as to change his chariot for a horse. 
The chariot with the royal robe and bow fell into 
Alexander’s hands, but Darius himself, safe, at least 
for the present, was on his way to the Median High- 
lands. 


* Now called the Great Zab, 


CHAPTER XXII 


AT BABYLON 

The victory of Arbela was decisive. Alexander of 
Macedon was now, beyond all question, the Great 
King. All of the hundred and twenty-seven pro- 
vinces out of which Cyrus and his successors had 
built up the huge structure of the Persian Empire 
were not indeed yet subdued, and the person of 
Darius had still to be captured ; but the title was 
practically undisputed. The first consequence of the 
victory was that Babylon and Susa^ the two capitals, 
as they may be called, were at once surrendered 
by the satraps that governed them. Mazaeus was in 
command at Babylon. He had done his best, as we 
have seen, on the fatal day of Arbela ; but he had 
seen that all was lost, and that nothing remained 
but to make such terms as was possible with the 

* Susa was the official capital of the kingdom ; Babylon, though 
fallen somewhat from its former greatness, was still the largest city. One 
might compare them to St. Petersburg and Moscow, but that Moscow 
is intensely Russian in feeling, while Babylon was probably strong by 
Anti-Persian. It had not forgotten its own independence, an inde- 
pendence which it tried more than once to assert by arms. 


^52 


AT BABYLON 


conqueror. He met the Macedonian king as he 
approached the city, and offered him the keys ; and 
Susa, at the same time, was surrendered to the lieu- 
tenant who was sent to take possession of it and its 
treasures. 

It was indeed rather as a Deliverer than as a 
Conquerorthat Alexander was received by the inhabi- 
tants of Babylon. The Persians had never been more 
than a garrison, and had made themselves as hated 
there as they had elsewhere. Hence it was with 
genuine delight that the population flocked out to 
meet their new master. Sacrifices over which the 
priests prayed for his welfare were offered on altars 
built by the wayside, and enthusiastic crowds spread 
flowers under his feet. 

Among those who came out to pay their respects 
to the king was a deputation from the great Jewish 
colony which had long existed in the city, and which, 
indeed, continued to inhabit it, till almost the day of 
its final abandonment. Alexander greeted them with 
especial kindness, and promised that they should 
have his favour and protection. Charidemus had 
been furnished by Manasseh of Damascus with a 
general letter of introduction to the heads of the 
dispersed Hebrew communities. This he lost no time 
in presenting, and he found that he had made a most 
interesting acquaintance. 

Eleazar of Babylon was indeed a remarkable 
personage. His family, which was distantly con- 


AT BABYLON 


253 


nected with the royal house of David, had been 
settled in the city for more than two centuries, 
tracing itself back to a certain Gemariah who had 
been one of the notables removed from Jerusalem by 
Nebuchadnezzar in the first Captivity.^ He was 
now in extreme old age, having completed his ninety- 
second year, and he had for some time ceased to 
leave his apartments. But his intellectual faculties 
retained their full vigour. He still hoH the chief 
control of a vast business which had grown up under 
his care. The Jews had already begun to show their 
genius for finance, and Eleazar surpassed predeces- 
sors and Contemporaries in the boldness and skill of 
his combinations. The Persian kings were far too 
wealthy to need the help which modern rulers are 
often glad to get from bankers and capitalists ; but 
their subjects of every rank often stood in want of it. 
A satrap, about to start for his province, would re- 
quire a loan for his outfit, and would be able to repay 
it, with liberal interest, if he could hold power for a 
year, A courtier, anxious to make a present to 
some queen of the hareem, a merchant buying goods 
which he would sell at more than cent, per cent, profit 
to the tribes of the remote east ; in fact, every one 
who wanted money either for business or for pleasure 
was sure to find it, if only he had security to offer, 
with Eleazar of Babylon, or with one of his corres- 

^ That described in 2 Kings xxiv. 13-16 as having happened in the 
eighth year of Jehoiachin (b.c. 602). 


254 


AT BABYLON 


pendents. The old man had able agents and lieu- 
tenants, but no single transaction was completed 
without his final approval. Even the little that 
Charidemus and his friend could see, as outsiders, 
of the magnitude of his affairs, struck them with 
wonder. Greek commerce was but a petty affair 
compared to a system which seemed to take in the 
whole world. But there was something in Eleazar 
far more interesting than any distinction which he 
might have as the head of a great mercantile house. 
He was, so to speak, a mine of notable memories, 
both national and personal. 

Among the worthies with whom his family claimed 
relationship was the remarkable man who had held 
high office under three successive dynasties of 
Babylonian rulers — Nebuchadnezzar, the conqueror of 
Jerusalem; Astyages^ the Mede ; and Cyrus the 
Persian. One of Eleazar's most precious possessions 
was a book of manuscript, written, it was believed, 
by the great statesman’s own hand, which recorded 
the story of himself and his companions. Eleazar, 
when he found that his young guests were something 
better than mere soldiers of fortune, thinking" of 
nothing but fighting and prize money, and had a sym- 
pathic interest in great deeds and great men, would 
read from this precious volume its stirring stories of 

* It seems probable that Astyages is to be identified with “Darius 
the Mede” mentioned in the Book of Daniel as succeeding to the 
government of Babylon after the death of Belshazzar. 


AT BABYLON 


255 


heroism, translating them as he went on from the 
original Hebrew or Aramaic into Greek, a language 
which he spoke with ease and correctness. The 
narrative stirred the two friends to an extraordinary 
degree, and indeed may be said to have influenced 
their whole lives. They admired the temperate self- 
restraint of the young captives who preferred their 
pulse and water to the dainties from the royal tables, 
sumptuous but unclean, which their keepers would 
have forced upon them. 

“Why,*' cried Charondas, when the story was 
finished, ‘‘ the young fellows might have won a prize 
at Olympia. ’Tis in the training, I believe, that 
more than half of the men break down.’’ 

The young man blushed hot as soon as the words 
had escaped him. It was, he remembered, a painful 
subject, and he could have bitten his tongue out in 
his self-reproach for mentioning it. The smile on 
Charidemus’s face soon reassured him. Larger 
interests and hopes had made the young Macedonian 
entirely forget what he had once considered to be an 
unpardonable and irremediable wrong. 

With still more profound interest did the friends 
listen to the tale of how the dauntless three chose 
rather to be thrust into the burning fiery furnace 
than to bow down to the golden image which the 
king had set up. 

“ Marked you that ? ” cried Charidemus to his 
friend, when the reader, to whom they had listened 


AT BABYLON 


256 

with breathless eagerness, brought the narrative to 
an end ; Marked you that ? If it be so, our God 
whom we serve is able to deliver us out from the burning 
fiery furnace^ and He will deliver us out of thine handy 
O king. But if not, be it known unto theey 0 kingy that 
we will not serve thy gods. How splendid ! If not — I 
can understand a man walking up to what looks like 
certain death, if he feels quite sure that Apollo, or 
Poseidon, or Aphrodite, is going to carry him off in a 
cloud ; and I can understand — for of course we see it 
every day — a man taking his life in his hand, from 
duty, or for a prize, or, it may be, from sheer liking 
for danger; but this passes my comprehension. Just 
to bow down to an image, whicii every one else is 
doing, and they won’t do it. Their God, they feel 
sure, will save them ; but in any case they will stand 
firm. Yes, that if not is one of the grandest things I 
ever heard.” 

Old Eleazar heard with delight the young man’s 
enthusiastic words. He had no passion for making 
proselytes, and, indeed, believed that they were best 
made without direct effort ; but he could not help 
saying, Ah ! my young friends, is not that a God 
worth serving ? It is something to be sure as these 
Three were sure, that He will save you ; but it is 
still more to feel, that whether He save you or no, 
anything is better than to do Him any wrong.” 

Eleazar had also recollections of his own which 
keenly interested the young men. 


AT BABYLON 


257 


Your king’s success,” he said one day, “ has not 
surprised me. In fact, I have been expecting it for 
these last sixty years and more. When I was a young 
man I saw something of events of which, of course, 
you have heard, when the younger Cyrus brought up 
some ten thousand of your soldiers to help him in 
pulling down his brother from the Persian throne, 
and setting himself upon it. Mind you, I never 
loved the young prince ; if he had got his way, no 
one but himself and his soldiers would have been a 
whit better for it. Indeed, I did all that I could to 
help the king against him. We Jews have a good 
deal to say to the making of war, even when we don’t 
carry swords ourselves ; gold and silver, you may 
easily understand, are often far more powerful than 
steel. Well ; I was present at the battle, and though 
I did not wish well to your countrymen’s purpose, I 
could not help seeing how very near they came to 
accomplishing it. I saw the pick of the Persian 
army fly absolutely without striking a blow when the 
Greek phalanx charged it. Nor could there have 
been a shadow of doubt that what the Greeks did 
with the left of the king’s army they would have 
done with his centre and his right, if they only had 
had the chance. It was only the foolish fury of the 
young prince that saved the king. If Cyrus had 
only kept his head, the day was his. Well, what I 
saw then, and what I heard afterwards of the mar- 
vellous way in which these men, without a general. 


AT BABYLON 


^58 

and almost without stores, made their way home, 
convinced me that what has happened now was only 
a matter of time. For sixty years or more, I say, I 
have been waiting for it to come to pass. Time after 
time it seemed likely; but something always hindered 
it. The right man never came, or if he came, some 
accident cut him off just as he was setting to work. 
But now he has come, and the work is done.*’ 

The friends spent with their venerable host all the 
time that was not required for their military duties ; 
and these, indeed, were of the very slightest kind. 
The fact was that his society was very much more to 
their taste than that of their comrades. Alexander’s 
army had been campaigning for more than three 
years with very little change or relaxation. If they 
were not actually engaged in some laborious service, 
they had some such services in near prospect ; and 
what time was given them for rest had to be strictly 
spent in preparation. Never, indeed, before, had the 
whole force been quartered in a city ; and a month in 
Babylon, one of the most luxurious places in the 
world — not to use any worse epithet — was a curious 
change from the hardships of the bivouac and the 
battle-field. And then the soldiers found themselves 
in possession of an unusual sum of money. An 
enormous treasure had fallen into Alexander’s hand, 
and he had dispensed it with characteristic liberality, 
giving to each private soldier sums varying from 
thirty to ten pounds, according to the corps in which 


AT BABYLON 


259 


he served, and to the officers in proportion. Such 
opportunities for revelry were not neglected, and the 
city presented a scene of license and uproar from 
which Charidemus and his friend were very glad to 
escape. 

For Charondas the household of Eleazar pos- 
sessed a particular attraction in the person of his 
great-grand-daughter Miriam. He had chanced, 
before his introduction to the family, to do the girl 
and her attendant the service of checking the unwel- 
come attentions of some half-tipsy soldiers. The 
young Miriam began by being grateful, and ended by 
feeling a warmer interest in her gallant and hand- 
some protector. So the time passed only too quickly 
by. There was no need to go for exercise or recrea- 
tion beyond the spacious pleasure grounds which 
were attached to Eleazar’s dwelling. They included, 
indeed, part of the famous hanging-garden ” which 
the greatest of the Babylonian kings had con- 
structed for his queen, to reproduce for her among 
the level plains of the Euphrates the wooded hills, 
her native Median uplands, over which she had once 
delighted to wander. The elaborate structure — 
— terrace rising above terrace till they overtopped the 
city walls — had been permitted to fall into decay ; 
but the wildness of the spot, left as it had been to 
nature, more than compensated, to some tastes at 
least, the absence of more regular beauty. In another 
part of the garden was a small lake, supplied by a 


26 o 


AT BABYLON 


canal which was connected with the Euphrates. 
This was a specially favoured resort of the young 
people. Water-lilies, white, yellow, and olive, half 
covered its surface with their gorgeous flowers ; and 
its depths were tenanted by swarms of gold fish. A 
light shallop floated on its waters, and Miriam often 
watched with delight the speed with which the 
friends could propel it through the water, though she 
could never be induced to trust herself to it. Days 
so spent and evenings employed in the readings 
described above, and the talk which grew out of 
them, made a delightful change from the realities of 
campaigning, realities which, for all the excitements 
of danger and glory, were often prosaic and revolting. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 

‘‘ Charidemus,” said the Theban to his friend one 
morning, when, the order to march having been 
given, the two friends were busy with their prepara- 
tions, Charidemus, we have been more than a 
month in Babylon, and yet have never seen its 
greatest wonder.” 

‘‘ What do you mean ? ” returned the other. The 
place seems to me full of wonders, and I should be 
greatly puzzled to say which is the greatest.” 

“ I mean the magic, of course. Everybody says 
that the Babylonian magicians are the most famous 
in the world I don’t think we ought to go away 
without finding out something about them.” 

I cannot say that I feel particularly disposed 
that way. Do you think that people have ever got 
any real good from oracles and soothsaying and 
auguries and such things ? It seems to me that 
when they do get any knowledge of the future, it is 
a sort of half-knowledge, that is much more likely to 
lead them astray than to guide. However, if you are 


262 A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 

very curious about these magicians, I don’t mind 
coming with you.” 

‘‘ Who will tell us the best man to go to ? Do 
you think that Eleazar would be likely to know ? ” 
He may know, as he seems to know everything. 
But I don’t think that we had better ask him. I 
feel sure that he hates the whole race. Don’t you 
remember when he was reading out of that book his 
explaining that the ‘ wise men ’ of Babylon were the 
magicians, and saying that whatever in their art was 
not imposture was wickedness ? ” 

‘‘Yes; and he wondered why Daniel, when he 
came to have the king’s ear, did not have the whole 
race exterminated. As you say, Eleazar is not 
likely to help us.” 

The two friends, however, easily found the infor- 
mation that they wanted. There could be no doubt 
who was the man they should consult. All agreed 
that the prince of the magicians was Arioch. “ If 
you want to know what the stars can tell you,” ex- 
plained a seller of sword blades with whom they had 
had some dealings, and whom they consulted, “ you 
must go to Zaidu. He is the most learned of the 
star-gazers, of the astrologers. Or, if you want to 
learn what can be found out from the entrails of 
beasts, and the flight or notes of birds, you must go 
to Zirbulla. The best interpreter of dreams, again, 
is Lagamar. But if you want a magician, then 
Arioch is your man. And if you want my advice. 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 263 

young gentlemen/’ went on the sword-dealer, who 
seemed indeed to have thought a good deal about 
the subject, I should say. Go to a magician. You 
see the stars are very much above us; they may 
have something to say in great matters — wars, and 
such like — ^but I don’t see how they can concern 
themselves with you and me. Then the birds and 
beasts are below us. And as for dreams, what are 
they but our own thoughts ? Don’t understand me, 
gentlemen,” he exclaimed, to say that I don’t 
believe in stars and dreams and the other things ; 
but, after all, magic, I take it, is the best way of 
looking into the future.” 

“ Why ? ” asked the two friends, to whom much 
of this distinguishing between different kinds of 
divination was new. 

‘‘ Because the magicians have to do with spirits, 
with demons,” said their informant, his voice sinking 
to an awe-stricken whisper ; “ and the demons are 
not above us like the stars, nor below us like the 
beasts. They are with us, they are like us. Some 
of them have been men, and now that they are free 
from the body they see what we cannot see. But 
Arioch will tell you more about these things than I 
can. I am only in the outside court ; he is in the 
shrine.” 

Arioch’s house was in the best quarter of the 
city, and was so sumptuous a dwelling, both within 
and without, as to show clearly enough that magic 


264 A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 

was a lucrative art. The magician himself was not 
the sort of man whom the friends had expected to see. 
He was no venerable sage, pale with fasting and ex- 
hausted with midnight vigils, but a man of middle- 
age, whose handsome face was ruddy with health 
and brown with exercise, and who, with his carefully 
curled hair and beard and fashionable clothing, 
seemed more like a courtier than a sorcerer. 

Arioch received his guests with elaborate polite- 
ness. He clapped his hands, and a slave appeared, 
carrying three jewelled cups, full of Libyan wine, a 
rare vintage, commonly reserved, as the young men 
happened to know, for royal tables. He clapped his 
hands again, but this time twice, and a little girl, 
with yellow hair and a complexion of exquisite fair- 
ness, came in with a tray of sweetmeats. She had 
been bought, he explained, from a Celtic tribe in the 
far West, and he hinted that the cost of her purchase 
had been enormous. A conversation followed on 
general topics, brought round gradually and without 
effort, as it seemed, to the object of the visit. 

So you want to have a look into the future ? ” he 
asked. 

The two friends admitted that they did. 

Perhaps I can help you,’’ said the magician. 
‘‘ But you know, I do not doubt, that one does not 
look into the future as easily as one reads a calendar 
or a tablet.” 

For a short time he seemed to be considering, and 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 265 

then went on, ‘‘I must think the matter over; and 
if the thing can be done there are some preparations 
which I must make. Meanwhile my secretary shall 
show you some things which may be worth your 
looking at.” 

He touched a silver hand-bell which stood on a 
table — a slab of citron wood on a silver pedestal — 
which stood by his side. A young man, who was 
apparently of Egyptian extraction, entered the room. 
Arioch gave him his directions. 

“ Show these gentlemen the library and anything 
else that they may care to see.” 

The library was indeed a curious sight. To the 
Greeks five centuries constituted antiquity. Legends, 
it is true, went back to a far remoter past, but there 
was nothing actually to be seen or handled of which 
they could be certain that it was much older than 
this. But here they stood in the presence of ages, 
compared to which even their own legends were new. 

*‘This,” said their guide, pointing to an earthen 
jar, “ contains the foundation cylinder of the Sun 
Temple, written by the hand of Naramsin himself. 
Nabonidus, whom you call Labynetus, found it more 
than two hundred years ago, and it was then at 
least three thousand years old. These again,'* and 
he pointed as he spoke to several rows of bricks 
covered with wedge-shaped characters, are the 
Calendar of Sargon. They are quite modern. They 
can be scarcely two thousand years old. This roll,” 


266 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 


he went on, ‘‘ was part of a library which King 
Nebuchadnezzar brought back from Egypt. He 
gave it to an ancestor of my master. It is the story 
of the king whom you call Sesostris, I think.” 

These were some of the curiosities of the collection. 
But it contained a number of more modern works, 
and was especially rich, as might be expected, in 
works dealing with the possessor’s art. “ There was 
no book of importance on this subject,” the secretary 
was sure, that his master did not possess.” He 
pointed to the most recent acquisition, which had 
come, he said, from Carthage. 

It is almost the first book,” he remarked, that 
has been written in that city ; not worth very much, 
I fancy ; but, then, my master likes to have every- 
thing, and there must be bad as well as good.” 

There were other things in the library which some 
visitors might have thought more interesting than 
books. The heavy iron doors of a cupboard in the 
wall were thrown back, and showed a splendid 
collection of gold and silver cups and chargers, some 
of them exact models, the secretary said, of the 
sacred vessels from Jerusalem. The originals had 
been all scrupulously restored by Cyrus and his suc- 
cessors. A drawer was opened, and found to be full 
of precious stones, conspicuous among which were 
some emeralds and sapphires of unusual size. 
‘‘ Presents,” exclaimed the secretary, “ from dis- 
tinguished persons who have received benefit from 
my master’s skill.” 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 267 

The visitors were politely given to understand 
that they, too, would be expected to contribute 
something to this lavish display of wealth. 

It is usual,” said the secretary, ‘‘for those who 
consult the future to make some little offering. This 
part of the business has been put under my manage- 
ment. The master never touches coin ; he mu^t go 
into the presence of the spirits with clean hands. 
Touched with dross, they might raise the wrath of 
the Unseen Ones.” 

The two friends thought the scruple a little fine- 
drawn, but said nothing. 

“ My master,” the secretary went on, “ is unwilling 
that any one should be shut out from the sight of 
that which might profit him for lack of means, and has 
fixed the fee at five darics.^ There are rich men who 
force upon him, so to speak, much more costly gifts.” 

The friends, who happened to have their pockets 
full of prize-money, produced the ten darics, not 
without a misgiving that what they were to hear 
would scarcely be worth the money. But the adven- 
ture, if followed so far, would have to be followed to 
the end. To grumble would be useless, and if there 
was anything to be learnt, might injure the chance 
of learning it. 

The gold duly handed over, the inquirers were 
taken back, not to the chamber in which Arioch had 

* Five “ darics ’’ would be about equal to about ;^5 los. The coin 
got its name from the first Darius. 


268 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 


received them, but to one of a far more imposing 
kind. It was a lofty vaulted room, pervaded with a 
dim green light coming from an invisible source, 
as there were neither lamps nor any window or sky- 
light to be seen. The tessellated floor had strange 
devices, hideous figures of the demons which were the 
life-long terror of the superstitious Babylonians. On a 
brazen altar in the centre of the room some embers 
were smouldering. These, as the visitors entered, 
were fanned by some unseen agency to a white heat. 
A moment afterwards Arioch threw some handfuls of 
incense on them, and the room was soon filled with 
fumes of a most stupefying fragrance. The magician 
himself was certainly changed from the worldly- 
looking personage whom the friends had seen an hour 
before. His face wore a look of exaltation ; while 
the dim green light had changed its healthy hue to 
a ghastly paleness. His secular attire had been 
changed for priestly robes of white, bound round the 
waist by a girdle which looked like a serpent, and 
surmounted by a mitre in the top of which a curious 
red light was seen to burn. The young men, though 
half-contemptuous of what they could not help think- 
ing to be artificial terrors, yet felt a certain awe 
creeping over them as they gazed. 

You desire,'’ said the magician in a voice which 
his visitors could hardly recognize as that in which he 
had before accosted them, you desire to hear from 
the spirits what they have to tell you of the future.” 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 269 

We do,” said Charidemus. 

There are spirits and spirits,” continued Arioch, 
spirits which come invisible shape, and with which 
you can talk face to face, and spirits whose voices 
only can be discerned by mortal senses. The first 
are terrible to look upon and dangerous to deal 
with.” 

‘'We do not fear,” said the young men. 

“ But I fear,” returned the magician, “ if not for 
you, yet for myself. What would your king say if 
two of his officers, traced to my house, should be 
missing, or — I have seen such things — should be 
found strangled ? Not all my art — and I know 
something I assure you — would save me. And then 
I dread the spirits, if I call them up unprepared, even 
more than I dread your king. No, my young friends, 
I dare not call up the strongest spirits that I know. 
But, believe me, you shall not repent of having come, 
or think your time wasted.” 

“ Do as you think best,” said Charidemus. “ We 
shall be content ; it is your art, not ours.” 

Arioch commenced a low chant which gradually 
grew louder and louder till the roof rang again with 
the volume of sound. The listeners could not under- 
stand the words. They were in the tongue of the 
Accadian tribes whom the Babylonian Semites had 
long before dispossessed ; but they could distinguish 
some frequently recurring names, always pronounced 
with a peculiar intonation, which they imagined to 


270 A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 

be the names of the spirits whom the magician was 
invoking. 

The chant reached the highest pitch to which the 
voice could be raised, and then suddenly ceased. 

Be sure,” said Arioch, in his usual voice, ‘‘ that 
you stand within the circle, and do not speak.” 

The circle was the region that was protected by 
incantations from the intrusion of spirits, that of the 
more powerful and malignant kind being excepted, 
as the magician had explained. 

“ These strangers seek to know the future,” said 
Arioch, with the same strained voice and in the same 
tongue which he had used in his invocation. He 
interpreted his words in Greek, as he also interpreted 
the answers. These answers seemed to come from 
a distance ; the language used was the same, as 
far as the hearers could judge of words which they 
did not understand ; the voice had a very different 
sound. 

They were foes and they are friends. Dear to 
the immortal gods is he that can forgive, and dear is 
he who can bear to be forgiven. The years shall 
divide them, and the years shall bring them together. 
They shall travel by diverse ways, and the path shall 
be smooth to the one and rough to the other, but the 
end shall be peace, if only they be wise. The tree 
that was a sapling yesterday to-morrow shall cover 
the whole earth. But it shall be stricken from 
above, and great will be its fall. Many will perish 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE 271 

in that day. Happy is he who shall be content to 
stand afar and watch.’* 

The voice ceased, and a moment afterwards the 
strange light of the chamber changed to that of the 
ordinary day. “The spirit will speak no more,” 
said Arioch. “ Come with me.” And he led them 
out of the chamber. When they had got back to the 
room into which they had been ushered at first, he 
said, “ These things are for your own ears ; I leave 
it to your discretion to determine when you will 
speak of them. At least let it not be for years to 
come. For yourselves, I see nothing but light in 
the future ; but for one who is greater than you, 
there is darkness in the sky. But be silent. It is 
dangerous to prophecy evil to the mighty. Yet, if 
the occasion should come, say to your master, ‘ Be- 
ware of the city whose fortifications were built by 
the potters.’ 

“ Was this worth our ten darics, think you ?” said 
the Theban, as they walked to their own quarters, 
through streets filled with the bustle of preparation, 
for the army was getting ready to march. “ Surely 
one might get good luck told to one, and good advice 
given for less. But he seemed to know something 
about us.” 

The two friends were never able quite to make up 
their minds, whether the magician’s words were a 
happy guess, or a genuine prediction. As they 

* The walls of Babylon were built of brick. 


A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURB 

came to know more of the marvels of Eastern 
sorcery they thought less of the outside marvels of 
the scene which they had witnessed. They made 
acquaintance, for instance, with ventriloquism, a 
curious gift scarcely known in the West, but 
frequently used for purposes of religious imposture 
by some of the Asiatic peoples. And they could 
make a shrewd guess that persons in Arioch’s 
position made it their business to gather all the 
knowledge that they could about the past history of 
those who consulted them. But there was always 
an unexplained remainder. This, as most of my 
readers will probably allow, was not an uncommon 
experience. There is plenty of carefully gathered 
knowledge of the past, plenty of shrewd guessing at 
the future, and plenty, it cannot be doubted, of im- 
posture — but something more. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


VENGEANCE 

Two days after the interview with the magician the 
army marched out of Babylon. Its destination was, 
in the first place, Susa, where a large reinforcement 
was awaiting it. There had been some losses in 
battle, and many times more from sickness. The 
month spent amongst the luxuries of Babylon had 
been at least as fatal as three months of campaign- 
ing. But all vacancies were more than made up by 
the fifteen thousand men from Macedonia, Thrace, 
and Greece, who now joined the standards. As for 
money, it was in such abundance as never had been 
witnessed before, or has been witnessed since. ^ The 
treasure found at Babylon had sufficed, as we have 
seen, to furnish a liberal present to the troops ; but 
the treasures of Susa were far greater. Fifty 
thousand talents is said to have been the total ,2 

* Not even by Cortes and his Spaniards in the newly-conquered 
Mexico, or by Pizarro in the still richer Peru. 

Equal to about eleven millions and a half. Two-thirds were in 
uncoined gold and silver ; the rest in gold darics. The average stock 
of bullion and coin held by the Bank of England is about half as much 
again. 


274 


VENGEANCE 


and there remained more than double the sum yet to 
be acquired at Persepolis. This was the next point 
to be reached. It lay in the rugged mountain 
region from which the conquering Persian race had 
emerged some two centuries before, to found an 
empire which has scarcely a parallel in history for 
the rapidity of its growth and its decay. 

The army had halted for the night at the end of 
the fifth day’s march, when a company of rudely clad 
strangers presented themselves at one of the gates of 
the camp, and demanded an audience of the king. 
They were admitted to his presence, and proceeded 
by their interpreter to make their demands. These 
were couched in language, which, softened though it 
was by the tact of the interpreter, still had a very 
peremptory sound. 

‘‘ Powerful Stranger,” they began (the ‘‘ powerful ” 
was interpolated in the process of translation) we 
are come to demand the tribute customarily paid by 
all who would traverse the country of the Uxii. The 
Great King, from the days of Cyrus himself, has 
always paid it, as will you also, we doubt not, who 
claim to be his successor. If you refuse, we shut 
our pass against you, as we would have shut it 
against him.” 

A flush of rage at this unceremonious address rose 
to the face of the king, but he mastered himself. 
‘‘ It is strange,” said he, after a moment, to be 
thus addressed. There is no one, from the Western 


VENGEANCE 


275* 


Sea to this spot, who has been able to stay my ad- 
vance. On what strength of your arms, or on what 
favour of the gods do you depend, that you talk so 
boldly ? Yet I would not refuse aught that you have 
a right to ask. On the third day, as I calculate, I 
shall reach that pass of which you speak. Be there, 
and you shall receive that which is your due.” 

Thoroughly mystified by this answer, the Uxians 
returned to their native hills, and having collected 
a force which was held sufficient to garrison the pass 
against any assailant, they awaited the arrival of 
their new tributary. But to their astonishment he 
approached them from behind. His eagle eye had 
discovered a track, known, of course, to the moun- 
taineeers, but certainly unknown to his guide. A 
few wreaths of smoke rising into the clear air, far up 
the heights of the hills, caught his eye as early one 
morning he surveyed the mountain range over which 
he had to make his way. At the same time he 
traced the line of a slight depression in the hills. 

Where there is a dwelling there is probably a 
path,” said the king to Parmenio, who accompanied 
him in his reconnoitring expedition, and we shall 
doubtless find it near a watercourse.” 

The watercourse was discovered, and with it 
the path. Greedy as ever of personal adventure, 
Alexander himself led the light troops whom he 
selected as the most suitable force for this service. 
Starting at midnight he came just before dawn 


276 


VENGEANCE 


on one of the Uxian villages. The surprise was 
complete. Not a man escaped. By the time the 
next village was reached some of the inhabitants had 
gone about their work in the fields and contrived to 
get away. But they only spread the alarm among 
their tribesmen. As there was not a fortress in the 
whole country, there was nothing left for the humbled 
mountaineers but absolute submission. Even this 
would not have saved the tribe from extermination, 
the penalty which the enraged Alexander had decreed 
against them, but for the intercession of the mother 
of Darius. 

‘‘My son,” she said, “be merciful. My own race 
came two generations back from these same moun- 
taineers. I ask their lives as a favour to myself. If 
they are haughty, it is the Persian kings in the past 
who by their weakness have taught them to be so. 
Now that they have learnt your strength, you will 
find them subjects worth ruling.” 

“Mother,” said Alexander, “whatever you are 
pleased to ask, I am more than pleased to give.” 

And the shepherds were saved. 

Another pass yet remained to be won, the famous 
Susian gates, and then Persepolis was his. But it 
was not won without an effort. One of the sturdiest 
of the Persian nobles held it with a body of picked 
troops, and the first assault, delivered the very 
morning after his arrival, was repulsed with loss. 
The next, directed both against the front and against 


VENGEANCE 


277 


the flank, always a weak point with Asiatic troops, 
was successful, and the way to Persepolis was open. 

The king had invited Charidemus to ride with him 
as the army made its last day’s march to Persepolis, 
and the young Macedonian had related to him the 
adventure which he and his friend had encountered 
on their way from the fords of Euphrates to join the 
army, and had dwelt with some emotion on the story 
of the unhappy man who had been the means of 
their escape. A turn of the road brought them face 
to face with a pitiable spectacle for which his tale 
had been an appropriate preparation. This was a 
company of unhappy creatures — it was afterwards 
ascertained that there were as many as eight 
hundred of them — who had suffered mutilation at 
the hands of their brutal Persian masters. Some 
had lost hands, some feet; several of the poor 
creatures had been deprived of both, and were 
wheeled along in little cars by some comrades who 
had been less cruelly treated. On the faces of many 
of them had been branded insulting words, sometimes 
in Persian and sometimes — a yet more intolerable 
grievance — in Greek characters. ‘‘Not men but 
strange spectres of men ” ; ^ they greeted the king 
with a Greek cry of welcome. Their voices seemed 
the only human thing about them. 

When the king saw this deplorable array, and 
understood who and what they were, he leapt from 

* The phrase is taken from the historian Curtius. 


278 


VENGEANCE 


his horse, and went among the ranks of the sufferers. 
So manifest was his sympathy that they could not 
but welcome him, and yet they could not help 
shrinking with a keen sense of humiliation from the 
gaze of a countryman. Bodily deformity was such a 
calamity to the Greek with his keen love for physical 
beauty, that such an affliction as that from which 
they were suffering seemed the very heaviest burden 
that could be laid upon humanity. Yet there were 
none who were not touched by the king’s gracious 
kindness. He went from one to another with words 
of sympathy and consolation, inquired into their 
stories, and promised them such help as they might 
require. A strange collection of stories they were 
that the king heard. Some doubtless were exag- 
gerated ; in others there was some suppression of 
truth ; but the whole formed a record of pitiless and 
often unprovoked cruelty. Many of the unhappy 
men were persons of education : tutors who had 
been induced to take charge of young Persian nobles 
and had chanced to offend either employer or pupil ; 
unlucky or unskilful physicians, such as he whom 
Charidemus had encountered ; architects where 
buildings had proved unsightly or unstable. Mer- 
cenary soldiers who had been convicted or suspected 
of unfaithfulness were a numerous class. A few, it 
could hardly be doubted, had been really guilty of 
criminal acts. 

So moved was Alexander by the horror of what he 


VENGEANCE 


279 


saw and heard that he burst into tears. And after 
all,” Charidemus heard him murmur to himself, ‘‘ I 
cannot heal the sorrows of one of these poor 
creatures. O gods, how helpless have ye made the 
race of mortal men ! ” 

Still, if he could not heal their sorrows, he could 
alleviate them. The sufferers were given to under- 
stand that they should have their choice of returning 
to their homes in Greece, or of remaining where they 
were. In either case, their means of livelihood in 
the future would be assured. They were to 
deliberate among themselves, and let him know 
their decision in the morning. 

The question was debated, we are told, with some 
heat. 

^‘Such sorrows as ours,” said the spokesman of 
one party, “ are best borne where they are borne 
unseen. Shall we exhibit them as a nine-days’ 
wonder to Greece? True it is our country; but 
wretches such as we are have no country, and no 
hope but in being forgotten. Our friends will pity 
us, I doubt not; but nothing dries sooner than a 
tear. Our wives — will they welcome in these 
mangled carcases the bridegrooms of their youth ; 
our children — will they reverence such parents ? 
We have wives and children here, who have been 
the sole solace of our unhappy lot. Shall we leave 
them for the uncertain affection of those who may 
well wish, when the first emotion of pity is spent, 
that we had never returned ? ” 


28 o 


VENGEANCE 


It was an Athenian who represented the opposite 
views. ‘‘ Such thoughts as you have heard,” he 
said, ‘‘ are an insult to humanity. Only a hard- 
hearted man can believe that other men’s hearts are 
so hard. The gods are offering us to-day what we 
never could have ventured to ask — our country, our 
wives, our children, all that is worth living or dying 
for. To refuse it were baseness indeed; only the 
slaves who have learnt to hug their chains can do 
it.” 

The counsels of the first speaker prevailed ; and 
indeed many of the exiles were old and feeble and 
could hardly hope to survive the fatigues of the 
homeward journey. A deputation waited on Alex- 
ander to announce their decision. He seems to have 
expected another result, promising all that they 
wanted for their journey and a comfortable subsist- 
ence at home. The offer was heard in silence, and 
then the king learnt the truth. It touched him 
inexpressibly that men could be so wretched that 
they were unwilling to return to their country. His 
first thought was to secure the exiles a liberal pro- 
vision in the place where they had elected to stay. 
Each man had a handsome present in money,^ and 
suitable clothing, besides a well-stocked farm, the 
rent of which he would receive from some native 
cultivator. The second thought was to carry into 
execution a resolve which the sight of these victims 

* About ^150. 


VENGEANCS^ 


281 


of Persian cruelty had suggested. He would visit 
these brutal barbarians with a vengeance that should 
make the world ring again. 

A council of generals was hastily called, and Alex- 
ander announced his intentions. 

‘‘ We have come,” he said, ‘‘ to the mother-city of 
the Persian race. It is from this that these bar- 
barians, the most pitiless and savage that the world 
has ever seen, came forth to ravage the lands of the 
Greek. Up till to-day we have abstained from ven- 
geance ; and indeed it would have been unjust to 
punish the subjects for the wickedness of their 
masters. But now we have the home of these 
masters in our power, and the day of our revenge is 
come. When the royal treasure has been removed 
I shall give over Persepolis to fire and sword.” 

Only one of the assembly ventured to oppose this 
decision, though there were many, doubtless, who 
questioned its wisdom. 

“ You will do ill, sire, in my opinion,” said Par- 
menio, the oldest of his generals, “ to carry out this 
resolve. It is not the wealth of the enemy, it is 
your own wealth that you are giving up to plunder ; 
it is your own subjects — for enemies who have sub- 
mitted themselves to the conquerors are subjects 
— whom you are about to slaughter.” 

“ Your advice, Parmenio,” retorted the king, 
‘‘ becomes you, but it does not become me. I do 
not make war as a huckster, to make profit of my 


282 


VENGEANCE 


victories, nor even as King of Macedon, but as the 
avenger of Greece. Two hundred years of wrong 
from the day when the Persians enslaved our 
brethren in Asia cry for vengeance. The gods have 
called me to the task, and this, I feel, is the hour.” 

After this nothing more was said* The royal 
treasure was removed, loading, it is said, ten 
thousand carts each drawn by a pair of mules, and 
five thousand camels. Then the city was given up 
to plunder and massacre, and, when it had been 
stripped of everything valuable, burnt to the ground, 
the king himself leading the way torch in hand. 
In a few hours a few smoking ruins were all that 
remained of the ancient capital of the Persian race. 
We may wish that Alexander had shown himself 
more magnanimous ; but it must be remembered 
that this savage act only expressed the common 
sentiment of his age. For the most part he was a 
clement and generous conqueror ; but vengeance 
on Persia ” he could not entirely forget.^ 

* We may compare, as a somewhat similar incident in modern times, 
the plunder of the Chinese Emperor’s Summer Palace in Pekin in the 
Chinese War of i860. Happily modem feelings forbade the massacre 
which accompanied the spoil of Persepolis ; but the destruction of the 
palace was a distinct act of vengeance on the wanton aggression and the 
brutality of the Chinese ruler, who was personally punished by the loss 
of his palace, just as the Persians were punished by the destruction 
of their metropolis. A famous English poem, Dryden’s “Ode on St. 
Cecilia’s Day,” attributes the destruction of Persepolis to a drunken 
freak of Alexander ; but there is no doubt that it was a deliberate act. 
Curtius speaks of it as having been proposed at a council of war, 
and other historians mention the unavailing resistance of Parmenio. 


VENGEANCE 


283 


With Parmenio’s argument that the king was wasting his own property 
we may compare the conversation that Herodotus records as having 
taken place between Croesus and Cyrus, after the capture of Sardis : 

“ After a while, when Croesus saw the Persians plundering the 
city of the Lydians, he turned to King Cyrus, and said, ‘ Is it 
allowed me, O king, to speak that which is in my heart, or shall I 
be silent ? * And C5TUS bade him be of good courage, and speak 
what he would. Then Croesus asked him, ‘What is it that this 
great multitude is so busy about?* ‘ They are spoiling thy city,* said 
Cyrus, ‘and carrying off thy possessions.* ‘Nay,* said Croesus, ‘this 
is not my city that they spoil, nor my possessions that they carry off ; 
for I have now no share or lot in these things. But the things that 
they plunder are thine.’ ** 


CHAPTER XXV 

DARIUS 

Alexander’s most pressing care was now the 
capture of Darius himself. As long as the Great 
King was at liberty he might become the centre of a 
dangerous opposition. If he was once taken Persia 
was practically conquered. He had fled to Ecba- 
tana, the ancient capital of the Medes, from the 
field of Arbela ; and now he had left Ecbatana to 
find refuge in the wilds of Bactria, the most rugged 
and inaccessible of all the provinces of the empire. 
But he was not far in advance ; Alexander was only 
eight days behind him at Ecbatana, and eight days 
would not, he thought, be difficult to make up, when 
his own rate of marching was compared with that 
of the fugitive. Affairs that could not be neglected 
kept him some days at Ecbatana. These disposed 
of, he started in pursuit, hoping to overtake the 
flying king before he could reach the Caspian Gates, 
a difficult mountain-pass on the southern side of the 
range which now bears the name of Elburz. He 
pressed on in hot haste, but found that he was too 


DARIUS 


285 


late. He was still fifty miles from the Gates, when 
he heard that Darius had passed them. And for the 
present it was impossible to continue the chase. So 
worn out were the troops that he had to allow them 
five days for rest. After this the fifty miles that still 
separated him from the Gates were traversed in two 
days. At the first halting place on the other side he 
heard news that made him curse the delays that had 
hindered his movements. 

Toilsome as this rapid march had been, Queen 
Sisygambis, the mother of Darius, had, at her own 
earnest request, accompanied it. Alexander had just 
finished his evening meal on the evening of the 
first day after passing the Gates, when he received 
a message from the queen’s mother, requesting an 
interview on matters of urgent importance. He 
obeyed the summons at once, and repaired to the 
tent. 

The queen, usually calm and self-possessed, was 
overwhelmed with grief. ‘‘ Speak, and tell your 
story,” she said, addressing the elder of two men 
who stood by wearing the dress of Bactrian peasants. 
The man stepped forward. 

‘‘ Stay,” cried Alexander, “ first tell me who you 
are, for, unless my eyes deceive me, you are not 
what you seem.” 

“ It is true, sire,” replied the man. We have 
disguised ourselves that we might have the better 
chance of bringing you tidings which it greatly con- 


286 


DARIUS 


cerns both you and the queen to know. My com- 
panion and I are Persian nobles. We have been 
faithful to King Darius. Till three days ago we 
followed him, and it is our duty to him that brings 
us here.” 

‘‘What do you mean?” cried Alexander. “Where 
is he ? How does he fare ? ” 

“ Sire,” said Bagistanes, for that was the Persian’s 
name, “ he is king no longer.” 

“And who has presumed to depose him?” said 
Alexander, flushing with rage. “Who is it that gives 
and takes away kingdoms at his pleasure?” 

“ Sire,” replied Bagistanes, “ since the day when 
King Darius fled from the field of Arbela ” 

The speaker paused, and looked doubtfully at the 
queen. It was impossible to tell the truth without 
implying blame of the king, who had in so cowardly 
a fashion betrayed his army. 

“ Speak on,” said Sisygambis. “I have learnt to 
bear it.” 

“ Since that day, then,” resumed Bagistanes, 
“ the king has had enemies who would have taken 
from him the Crown of Persia. Bessus, Satrap of 
Bactria, conspired with other nobles against their 
master. They consulted whether they should not 
deliver hin^ to you, and had done so, but that they 
doubted whether you were one that rewarded traitors. 
Then they resolved to take him with them in their 
flight eastward, and in his name to renew the war.” 


DARWS 


287 


‘‘ But had he no friends ? ” asked the king. 

Yes, he had friends, but they were too weak to 
resist, nor would the king trust himself to them. 
Patron, who commanded the Greeks that are still 
left to him^ warned him of his danger, but to no 
purpose. ‘ If my own people desert me,’ he said, 
‘ I will not be defended by foreigners.’ And Patron, 
who indeed had but fifteen hundred men with him — 
for only so many are left out of the fifty thousand 
Greeks who received the king’s pay four years ago — 
Patron could do nothing. Then Artabazus tried 
what he could do. * If you do not trust these men 
because they are foreigners, yet I am a Persian of 
the Persians. Will you not listen to me ? ’ The 
king bade him speak, and Artabazus gave him the 
same advice that Patron had given. ‘Come with us, 
for there are some who are still faithful to you, into 
the Greek camp. That is your only hope.’ The 
king refused. * I stay with my own people,’ he 
said. That same day Patron and his Greeks 
marched off, and Artabazus went with him. My 
companion and I thought that we could better serve 
our master by remaining, and we stayed. That 
night Bessus surrounded the king’s tent with soldiers 
— some Bactrian savages, who know no master but 
the man who pays them — and laid hands on him, 
bound him with chains of gold, and carried him off 
in a covered chariot, closely guarded by Bactrians. 
We could not get speech with him; but we went 


288 


DARIUS 


a day’s journey with the traitors, in order to find out 
what direction they were going to take. We halted 
that night at a village, the headman of which I 
knew to be a faithful fellow — in fact, he is my foster- 
brother. He gave us these disguises, and we got off 
very soon after it was dark. Probably we were not 
pursued ; the start was too great. This is what we 
have come to tell you.” 

You will save him, my son,” said Sisygambis to 
Alexander. 

‘‘ I will, mother,” replied the king, ‘‘ if it can be 
done by man, and the gods do not forbid.” 

Within an hour a picked body of troops was ready 
to continue the pursuit. Two small squadrons, one of 
the Companion Cavalry, the other of Macedonian light 
horse — theThessalians had gone home from Ecbatana 
— and a company of infantry, selected for their strength 
and endurance, formed the van of the pursuing force. 
Alexander, of course, took the command himself. 
Charidemus, who was beginning to have a reputation 
for good luck, a gift scarcely less highly esteemed 
even by the wise than prudence and courage, re- 
ceived orders to accompany him. No man carried 
anything beyond his arms and provisions for two 
days, the king himself being as slenderly equipped as 
his companions. The main body of the army was 
to follow with the baggage at a more leisurely pace. 

It was about the beginning of the first watch ^ 
* Nine o’clock at night. The time of year seems to have been July. 


DARIUS 


289 


when the flying column started. It made a forced 
march of two nights and a day, making only a few 
brief halts for food, and taking a somewhat longer 
rest when the sun was at its hottest. When the 
second day began to dawn, the camp from which 
Bagistanes had escaped to bring his information 
could be descried. Bessus was now three days in 
advance. Another forced march, this time for 
twenty-four hours, broken only by one brief siesta, 
for the men ate in their saddles, materially decreased 
the distance. The column reached a village which 
Bessus and his prisoner had left only the day before. 
Still the prospect was discouraging. The headman 
was brought before Alexander, and questioned by 
means of an interpreter. The man had plenty to 
tell, for it was only the day before that he had been 
similarly questioned by Bessus. From what had 
fallen from the satrap, the headman had concluded 
that it was the intention of the fugitives to push on 
night and day without halting. 

“Can we overtake them?” asked the king. “Tell 
me how I may do it and you shall have a hundred 
gold coins for yourself, and your village shall be free 
of tribute for ever.” 

“ You cannot overtake them by following them ; 
but you can cut them off.” 

The man then described the route which would 
have to be followed. It lay across a desert ; it was 
fairly level and not unusually rough, but it was 


2go 


DARIUS 


absolutely without water. Sometimes used in winter, 
it was never traversed between the spring and the 
autumn equinox. But the distance saved was very 
large indeed. 

Alexander’s resolution was at once taken. He was 
one of the men to whom nothing is impossible, and 
this waterless desert was only one of the obstacles 
which it was his delight to overcome. But, if his 
idea was audacious, he had also a consummate 
readiness of resource, and a most careful and 
sagacious faculty of adapting means to ends. He 
began by selecting from the cavalry force which 
accompanied him the best horses and the best men. 
All the infantry were left behind. The riding weight 
of the chosen horsemen was reduced to the lowest 
possibility, even the ornaments of the horses being 
left behind. Then he gave them a long rest, so long 
that there was no little wonder among them at what 
seemed a strange waste of time. But the king knew 
what he was doing. He was going to make one 
supreme effort, and everything must be done to avoid 
a breakdown. 

The start was made at nightfall, but the moon was 
fortunately full, and the riders had no difficulty in 
keeping the track. By an hour after sunrise on the 
following day they had completed nearly fifty miles, 
and their task was all but accomplished. 

They had, in fact, cut the Persians off. The two 
bodies of men were marching on converging lines^ 


DARIUS 


291 


which, had they been followed, would have actually 
brought them together. Unluckily some quick- 
sighted Bactrian had caught a glimpse of the 
Macedonians, and had given the alarm to his com- 
mander. Bessus and his column were already in 
flight when they, somewhat later, became visible to 
the Macedonians. 

The best mounted of the troopers started at once 
in pursuit. They recognized the figure of the satrap, 
and took it for granted that Darius would be with 
him. The chase would in any case have been fruit- 
less, for the Bactrians had not been pushing their 
horses during the night, and easily distanced the 
wearied pursuers. But, as a matter of fact, Darius 
was not there, and it was Charidemus who, by mingled 
sagacity and good luck, won the prize of the day. 
His eye had been caught by an object in the Persian 
line of march which he soon discovered to be a 
covered chariot, surrounded by troops. He saw it 
become the centre of a lively movement and then 
observed that it was left standing alone. He also 
observed that before the soldiers left it they killed 
the animals which were drawing it. It at once 
occurred to him that it was here that Darius would 
be found. He looked round for the king, intending to 
make his conjecture known to him. But Alexander 
was a long way behind. His horse, not the famous 
Bucephalus, which was indeed too old for such work, 
but a young charger which he was riding for the first 


292 


DARIUS 


time, had broken down. No time was to be lost, and 
Charidemus galloped up to the chariot. 

His guess had been right. Darius was there, but 
he was dying. The story told afterwards by the 
slave who, hidden himself, had witnessed the last 
scene, was this : Bessus and the other leaders, as 
soon as they discovered that the Macedonians had 
overtaken them, had urged the king to leave the 
chariot and mount a horse. He refused. ‘‘ You will 
fall,” cried Bessus, ‘‘ into the hands of Alexander.” 

care not,” answered Darius. “At least he is not a 
traitor.” Without further parley they hurled their 
javelins at him and fled, not even turning to see 
whether the wounds were mortal. 

The king was near his end when Charidemus 
entered. The slave had come out of his hiding-place, 
and was endeavouring in vain to stanch the flow of 
blood. Darius roused a little as the strange figure 
came in sight. 

“ Who are you ? ” he asked. 

“ Charidemus, my lord,” was the answer. 

“ What ? ” murmured the dying man, “ do his 
furies haunt me still ? ” 

“ My lord,” said the young man, “ I have only 
kindness to remember.” 

Darius recognized his voice. “ Ah ! I recollect,” 
he said, “you were at Issus. But where is your 
king?” 

“ He is behind ; he is coming ; but his horse 
failed him.” 


DARIUS 


m 


He will be too late, if indeed he wished to see 
me alive. But it matters not : Darius, alive or dead, 
is nothing now. But give him my thanks, and say 
that I commend my mother to him and all of my 
kindred that may fall into his hands. He is a 
generous foe, and worthier than I of the sceptre of 
Cyrus. But let him beware. He is too great ; and 
the gods are envious.” 

Here his voice failed him. A shudder passed over 
his limbs ; he drew a few deep breaths, and the last 
of the Persian kings was gone. 

About half an hour afterwards Alexander arrived, 
having obtained a horse from one of his troopers. 
For some minutes he stood looking at the dead man 
in silence. Then calling some of his men, who by 
this time had collected in considerable numbers, he 
bade them pay the last duties to the dead. The 
corpse was conveyed to the nearest town, and there 
roughly embalmed. In due time it received honour- 
able burial in the royal tomb at Pasargadae. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


INVALIDED 

The extraordinary fatigues which Charidemus had 
undergone, together with continual exposure to the 
burning summer heat, resulted in a long and dan- 
gerous illness. He had strength enough to make 
his way along with a number of other invalided men 
to Ecbatana ; but immediately after his arrival in 
that city the fever which had been lurking in his 
system declared itself in an acute form. For many 
days he hovered between life and death, and his 
recovery was long and tedious, and interrupted by 
more than one dangerous relapse. All this time the 
outer world was nothing to him. First came days 
of delirium in which he raved of battles and sieges, 
with now and then a softer note in his voice con- 
trasting strangely with the ringing tone of the words 
of command. These were followed by weeks of 
indifference, during which the patient took no care 
for anything but the routine of the sick-room. 
When his thoughts once more returned to the 
business and interests of life it was already autumn. 


INVALIDED 


295 


Almost the first news from the world without that 
penetrated the retirement of his sick-room was the 
story of a terrible tragedy that had happened almost 
within sight and hearing. 

Parmenio, the oldest, the most trusted of the 
lieutenants of Alexander, was dead, treacherously 
slain by his master’s orders ; and Philotas his son, 
the most brilliant cavalry leader in the army, had 
been put to death on a charge of treason. Whether 
that charge was true or false no one knew for certain, 
as no one has been able to discover since. But there 
were many who believed that both men had been 
shamefully murdered. The accusation was certainly 
improbable — for what had Parmenio and his son, 
both as high in command as they could hope to be, 
to gain ? And it rested on the weakest evidence, 
the testimony of a worthless boy and a still more 
worthless woman. 

All Charidemus’s feelings were prepossessed in 
favour of the king; but the story came upon him as 
an awful shock. With Parmenio he had had no 
personal acquaintance, but Philotas had been in a 
way his friend. Haughty and overbearing in his 
general demeanour, he had treated Charidemus with 
especial kindness. The first effect of the news was 
to throw him back in his recovery. For a time, 
indeed, he was again dangerously ill. He ceased to 
care for life, and life almost slipped from his grasp. 

He was slowly struggling back to health, much 


296 


INVALIDED 


exercised all the time by doubts about his future, 
when a letter from the king was put into his hands. 
It ran thus : — 

‘‘ Alexander the king to Charidemus, greeting. 

I hear with pleasure that the gods have preserved you 
to us. But you must not tempt the Fates again. You 
have had four years of warfare ; let it suffice you for the 
present. It so happens that at this moment of writing I 
have before me the demand of Amyntas, son of Craterus, 
to be relieved of his command. He is, as you know, 
Governor of Pergamos, and he wishes to take part in the 
warfare which I purpose to carry on in the further East. 
This command, therefore, of which he is not unreasonably 
weary, you may not unreasonably welcome. Herewith 
is the order that appoints you to it. My keeper of the 
treasure at Ecbatana will pay you two hundred talents. 
Consider this as your present share of prize-money. You 
will also find herewith letters that you will deliver with 
your own hand. If you have other friends in Pergamos, 
greet them from me, and say that I wish well both to them 
and to you. Be sure that if hereafter I shall need you I 
shall send for you. Farewell."' 

This communication solved at least one of the 
problemsoverwhich the young man had been puzzling. 
The physician had told him most emphatically that 
for a year or more all campaigning was out of the 
question. Here was a post which, as far as its duties 
were concerned, was practically equal to retirement. 


INVALIDED 


297 


If he had had his choice he could not have picked 
out anything more suitable to his circumstances. A 
doubt indeed occurred whether, after what had hap- 
pened, he could take anything from Alexander’s 
hands. But the State, he reflected, must be served. 
Pergamos must have its garrison, if for no other 
reason, at least because the child who was at present 
the king’s only heir was there, and the garrison 
must have its commander. And besides — who was 
he that he should judge the king? It would be pain- 
ful, he acknowledged to himself, to be in daily con- 
tact with a man whose hands were red with the 
blood of a friend. That pain he would be spared. 
But it was another thing to refuse office at his hand. 
That would be to pronounce sentence in a case 
which he had no means of deciding. It was only 
after conscientiously weighing the matter by the 
weights of duty that the young man suffered himself 
to consult his private feelings. Here at least there 
was not a shadow of doubt in his mind. It was a 
grief to the ambitious young soldier to be checked in 
his active career. The campaign which the king was 
meditating in the further East promised to be full of 
adventure and interest, but if he was, for the future, 
to hear only of these glories, where could he do so 
with greater content than in the daily companionship 
of Clearista ? 

The westward journey was begun the next week. 
It was accomplished far more easily and speedily 


298 


INVALIDED 


than would have been the case a short time before. 
The traffic between the coast and Upper Asia was 
now constant ; the passage of invalided soldiers 
homeward, and of fresh troops to join the army, went 
on without intermission, and consequently the service 
of transport had been effectively organized. In about 
eight weeks Charidemus reported himself at Per- 
gamos, and took possession of his new command. 

Barsine welcomed him with the liveliest delight, 
and was never wearied of his stories of the cam- 
paigns through which he had passed. Clearista, now 
grown from a girl into a woman — it was nearly four 
years since the two first met in the citadel of Hali- 
carnassus — had exchanged the frank demeanour of 
childhood for a maidenly reserve. The young soldier, 
who had had little experience of women’s ways, was 
at first disappointed and disheartened by what seemed 
her coldness. He knew nothing, of course, of the 
intense eagerness with which she had looked out for 
tidings of him during these years of absence, of the 
delight with which she had heard of his probable 
return, of the day-dreams of which he was ever the 
principal figure. She treated him as a casual ac- 
quaintance, but he was her hero, and not the less so, 
because, while he was full of striking reminiscences 
of the war, it was very difficult to get from him any 
account of personal adventure 

Greek courtships were not conducted, as my 
readers are probably aware, after English fashion, a 


INVALIDED 


299 


fashion which is probably singular, whether we com- 
pare it with the ways of ancient or of modern life. 
Certainly a Greek treatise on the subject of ‘‘ How 
Men Propose ” would have had to be very brief, for 
lack of variety. Men proposed, it may be said, in- 
variably to the parents or guardian of the lady. But 
it must not be supposed that then, any more than 
now, among people where marriage arrangements 
seem most rigorously to exclude any notion of choice, 
there was no previous understanding between the 
young people. Cramp and confine it as you will, 
human nature is pretty much the same in all times 
and places. 

Charidemus made his suit in due form and to the 
person whom he was bound by custom to address, 
to Barsine. But he did not make it till he had satis- 
fied himself, as far as that could be done without 
actual words, that the suit would be welcome to the 
party chiefly interested. Reserve, however carefully 
maintained, is not always on its guard ; a look or a 
word sometimes betrayed a deeper interest than the 
girl chose to acknowledge ; in short, Charidemus felt 
hopeful of the result when he opened his heart to 
Barsine, and he was not disappointed. 

The marriage was solemnized on the fifth anniver- 
sary of the day on which Alexander had crossed over 
from Europe into Asia. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 

The six years that followed were years of quiet, 
uneventful happiness for Charidemus and his wife. 
The governorship of Pergamos was not exactly a 
sinecure, but it was not laborious. The garrison 
duty was of the slightest. The place was practically 
safe from attack, even if there had been any enemies 
to attack it. The governor's chief duty was the 
charge of a depots for which the town had been found 
a convenient situation. New troops were trained at 
it ; troops who were invalided, or who had passed 
their time, were sent there to receive their formal 
discharge. These veterans had much to tell 
of what the army was doing. Of course plenty of 
fable was mixed with the fact, the more so as much 
of the news came at second or third hand and from 
very remote regions indeed. A more regular and 
reliable source of information were the letters which 
Charondas, who had been attached to headquarters, 
continued to send to his friend. The two had con- 
trived a system of cypher, and so the Theban was 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


301 


able to express himself with a freedom which he 
would not otherwise have been able to use. Some 
extracts from these letters 1 shall give : — 

. So Bessus the murderer has met with his 
deserts. We crossed the Oxus, the most rapid and 
difficult river that we have yet come to. We got over 
on skins, and lost, I am afraid, a good many men and 
horses. I myself was carried down full half a mile 
before I could get to land, and thought more than 
once that it was all over with me. If Bessus had tried 
to stop us there must have been disaster; but we heard 
afterwards that he had been deserted by his men. 
Very soon after we had crossed the river he was taken. 
I have no pity for the villain ; but I could wish that 
the king had not punished him as he did. He had 
his nostrils and ears cut off. You remember how 
Alexander was moved when he saw those poor 
mutilated wretches at Persepolis, what horror he 
expressed. And now he does the same things him- 
self! But truly he grows more and more barbarian 
in his ways. Listen again to this. We came a few 
days since on our march to a little town that seemed 
somewhat differently built from the others in this 
country. The people came out to greet us. Their 
dress was partly Greek, partly foreign ; their tongue 
Greek but mixed with barbarisms, yet not so much 
but that we readily understood them. Nothing 
could be more liberal than their offers ; they were 


302 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


willing to give us all they had. The king inquired 
who they were. They were descended, he found — 
indeed they told the story themselves without any 
hesitation — from the families of the priests of Apollo 
at Branchidae. These priests had told the secret of 
where their treasures were kept to King Xerxes after 
his return from Greece, and he to reward them, and 
also we may suppose, to save them from the ven- 
geance of their countrymen, had planted them in 
this remote spot, where they had preserved their 
customs and language as well as they could. Now 
who could have imagined that the king should do 
what he did ? He must avenge forsooth the honour 
of Apollo on these remote descendants of the men 
who caused his shrine to be robbed ! He drove the 
poor creatures back into their town, drew a cordon 
of soldiers round it, and then sent in a company with 
orders to massacre every man, woman, and child 
in it. He gave me the command of these execu- 
tioners. I refused it. ^ It is against my vows, my 
lord,’ I said. I thought that he would have struck 
me down where I stood. But he held his hand. He 
is always tender with me, for reasons that he has ; 
and since he has been as friendly as ever. But what 
a monstrous deed ! Again I say, the barbarian 
rather than the Greek. 


Another awful deed ! O my friend, I often wish 


NEWS FROM THE BAST 


303 


that I were with you in your peaceful retirement. 
In war the king is as magnificent as ever, but at 
home he becomes daily less and less master of him- 
self. Truly he is then as formidable to his friends, 
as he is at other times to his enemies. What I write 
now I saw and heard with my own eyes. At Mara- 
canda* there was a great banquet — I dread these 
banquets a hundred-fold more than I dread a battle 
— to which I was invited with some hundred other 
officers. It was in honour of Cleitus, who had been 
appointed that day to the government of Bactria. 
When the cup had gone round pretty often, some of 
those wretched creatures who make it their business 
to flatter the king — it pains me to see how he swallows 
the flatteries of the very grossest with greediness — 
began to magnify his achievements. He was greater 
than Dionysus, greater than Hercules ; no mortal 
could have done such things ; it was only to be hoped 
that the gods would not take him till his work was 
done. If I was sickened to hear such talk, what think 
you I felt when Alexander himself began to talk in 
the same strain. Nothing would satisfy him but that 
he must run down his own father Philip. ^ It was I,’ 
he said, * who really won the victory of Chseronea, 
though Philip would never own it. And, after all, 
what petty things that and all his victories are 
compared to what I have done ! ’ On this I heard 


* Maracanda is the modern Samarcand. 


304 


NEWS FROM THE BAST 


Cleitus whisper to his neighbour some lines from 
Euripides : 

“ ‘ When armies build their trophies o’er the foe, 

Not they who bear the burden of the day, 

But he who leads them reaps alone the praise.* 

‘‘ ‘ What did he say ? * said the king, who guessed 
that this certainly was no flattery. No one answered. 
Then Cleitus spoke out. He, too, had drunk deeply. 
(What a curse this wine is! Do you remember that 
we heard of people among the Jews who never will 
taste it. Really I sometimes think that they are in 
the right.) He magnified Philip. ‘ Whoever may 
have won the day at Chaeronea,’ he said, ‘ anyhow it 
was a finer thing than the burning of Thebes.’ I saw 
the king wince at this as if some one had struck him. 
Then turning directly to Alexander, Cleitus said, 
‘ Sir, we are all ready to die for you ; but it is hard 
that when you are distributing the prizes of victory, 
you keep the best for those who pass the worst 
insults on the memory of your father.’ Then he went 
on to declare that Parmenio and Philotas were 
innocent — in fact, I do not know what he said. He 
was fairly beyond himself. The king certainly bore 
it very well for a long time. At last, when Cleitus 
scoffed at the oracle of Ammon — ‘ I tell you the truth 
better than your father Ammon did,’ were his words 
— the king’s patience came to an end. He jumped 
from his couch, caught hold of a spear, and would 
have run Cleitus through on the spot had not 



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NEWS FROM THE EAST 


305 


Ptolemy and Perdiccas caught him round the waist 
and held him back, while Lysimachus took away the 
lance from him. This made him more furious than 
ever. ‘ Help, men,’ he cried to the soldiers on guard. 
‘ They are treating me as they treated Darius.’ At 
that they let go their hold. It would have been 
dangerous to touch him. He ran out into the porch 
and caught a spear from a sentinel. Just then 
Cleitus came out. ‘Who goes there?’ he said. 
Cleitus gave his name. ‘ Go to your dear Philip 
and your dear Parmenio ! ’ shouted the king, and 
drove the spear into his heart. 


** The king is better again, but he has suffered 
frightfully. Again and again he offered to kill him- 
self. For three days and nights he lay upon the 
ground, and would neither eat nor drink. At last 
his bodyguard fairly forced him to do so. One 
curious reason for the king’s madness I h'bard. The 
fatal feast was held in honour of the Twin Brethren, 
and it was one of the sacred days of Bacchus! 
Hence the wrath of the neglected god. It is 
certainly strange how this wrath, be it fact or fancy, 
continues to haunt him. 


“ Thank the gods we are in the field, and Alexander 
is himself again. Nay, he is more than himself. 


3o6 


iVBlVS FROM THE EAST 


Sometimes I scarcely wonder at the flatterers who 
say that he is more than man. There never was such 
energy, such skill, so much courage joined to so 
much prudence. His men will follow him anywhere ; 
when he heads them they think nothing impossible. 
Since I last wrote he has done what no man has ever 
done before ; he has tamed the Scythians. The great 
Cyrus, you know, met his end at their hands; Darius 
narrowly escaped with his life. And now this marvel- 
lous man first conquers them and then makes friends 
of them. A week ago he took in a couple of days a 
place which every one pronounced to be impregnable : 
the ‘ Sogdian Rock,’ they called it. Never before had 
man entered it except with the good will of those 
who held it. It was a rock some two hundred cubits 
high, rising almost sheer on every side, though, of 
course, when one looked closely at it, there were 
ledges and jutting points on which an expert climber 
could put his foot. The king summoned the bar- 
barians to surrender. If they would, he said, they 
should go away unharmed, and carry all their 
property with them. They laughed at him. ‘ If 
you have any soldiers with wings, you should send 
them,’ they said, ‘ we are not afraid of any others.’ 
The same day the king called an assembly of the 
soldiers. ‘You see that rock,’ he said, ‘we must 
have it. The man who first climbs to the top shall 
have twelve talents, the second eleven, the third ten, 
and so on. I give twelve prizes; twelve will be 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


307 


enough.’ That night three hundred men started for 
this strange race. They took their iron tent-pegs 
with them, to drive into the ice or the ground, as it 
might be, and ropes to haul themselves up by. 
Thirty fell and were killed. The rest reached the 
top, the barbarians not having the least idea that 
the attempt was being made. At dawn Alexander 
sent the herald again. ^ Alexander,’ he said, ‘ has 
sent his soldiers with wings, and bids you surrender.’ 
They looked round, and the men were standing on 
the top. They did not so much as strike a single 
blow for themselves. It is true that others did this 
for the king. But this is the marvel of him. Not 
only does he achieve the impossible himself, but he 
makes other achieve it for him. 

• ••••• 

We have fought and won a great battle, greater 
by far than Granicus, or Issus, or Arbela. We had 
crossed the Indus — I talk, you see, familiarly of 
rivers of which a year or two ago scarcely any one 
had ever heard the name — and had come to the 
Hydaspes. There a certain Porus, king of the 
region that lies to the eastward of that river,^ was 
encamped on the opposite bank. Our Indian allies — 
happily the tribes here have the fiercest feuds among 
themselves — said that he was by far the most power- 

' The kingdom of Porus consisted of the eastern portion of the 
Punjaub. The Hydaspes is the Djalan or Jelam, sometimes called 
Behat. 


3o8 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


ful prince in the whole country. And indeed when 
we came to deal with his army we found it a most 
formidable force, not a few good troops with an 
enormous multitude of helpless creatures who did 
nothing but block up the way, but really well-armed, 
well-disciplined soldiers. The first thing was to get 
across the river. It was quite clear that Porus was 
not going to let us get over at our own time and 
in our own way, as Darius let us get across the 
Euphrates and the Tigris. You would have ad- 
mired the magnificent strategy by which Alexander 
managed it. First, he put the enemy off their guard 
by a number of false alarms. Day after day he 
made feints of attempting the passage, till Porus 
did not think it worth while to take any notice of 
them. Then he gave out that he should not really 
attempt it till the river became fordable, that is, 
quite late in the summer. Meanwhile he was making 
preparations secretly. The place that he pitched 
upon was about seventeen miles above Porus’s 
camp. The river divides there, flowing round a 
thickly-wooded island. To get to this island — a 
thing which could be done without any trouble — 
was to get, you see, half across the river. We had 
had a number of large boats for the crossing of the 
Indus. These were taken to pieces, carried across 
the country, and then put together again. Besides 
these there was a vast quantity of bladders. Craterus 
was left with about a third of the army opposite to 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 309 

I 

Porus’s camp. He was to make a feint of crossing, 
and convert it into a real attempt if he saw a chance 
of making good his landing. You see the real 
difficulty was in the enemy’s elephants. Horses will 
not face elephants. If Porus moved his elephants 
away, then Craterus was to make the attempt in 
earnest. Some other troops were posted half way 
between the camp and the island. These were to 
make another feint. The king himself was going 
to force a passage at all hazards. Then came in 
his good luck, which is really almost as astonishing 
as his skill. There was a violent thunderstorm in 
the night. In the midst of this, while there was so 
much noise from the thunder and the torrents of 
rain that nothing could be heard on the opposite 
bank, the king’s force got across to the island. 
Then, by a another stroke of good fortune, the rain 
ceased, and the rest of the crossing was finished 
without having to strike a blow. 

“ Meanwhile Porus had heard that something was 
going on higher up the river, and sent a detachment 
of cavalry under one of his sons to defend the bank. 
It was too late. If they had come while we were 
crossing, they might have made the work very 
difficult. As it was, they were simply crushed by 
our cavalry. 

“Then we marched on — I had crossed, I should 
have told you, with the king — and about half way to 
Porus’s camp, found him with his army drawn up. 


310 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


Very formidable it looked, I assure you. In front of 
the centre were the elephants. We had never met 
elephants before. Some of our men had never even 
seen them. I think now, after trial of them, that 
they look a great deal worse than they are ; but at 
the time they alarmed me very much. How our 
lines could stand firm against such monsters I could 
not think. On the wings were the chariots, with 
four horses all of them. Each chariot had six men 
in it, two heavily-armed, two archers, and two 
drivers. The cavalry were posted behind the chariots, 
and the infantry behind the elephants. 

‘^Alexander began by sending the mounted archers 
into action, by way of clearing the way for himself 
and his cavalry. The archers sent a shower of 
arrows on the chariots in front of the left wing. 
These were closely packed together, and made an 
excellent mark. Some of the arrows, I observed, 
fell among the cavalry behind them. Meanwhile 
Alexander, with the elite of the cavalry, had gained 
one of their flanks, while Coenus threatened the 
other. They tried to form a double front. While 
they were making the change, the king fell upon 
them like a thunderbolt. They held their own for 
a short time ; but our cavalry was too heavy for 
them. They fell back upon the elephants. 

‘‘ Here there was a check. At one time I thought 
there was going to be more than a check. Our 
horses could not be brought to face the great brutes; 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


3II 

the horses of the Indians were used to them, and 
moved in and out among them freely. Nor could 
the phalanx stand against them. The long spears 
were simply brushed aside like so many straws when 
an elephant moved up against the line. If their 
drivers could have kept them under control, it must 
have gone hard with us. But they could not. 
There are thin places in the animal's skin where it 
can be easily wounded ; and when it is wounded it 
is at least as dangerous to friends as to enemies. 
Only a few of the creatures were killed, but many 
became quite unmanageable. At last, as if by 
common consent — and this was one of the most 
curious things I had ever seen — such as were still 
serviceable, turned and left the field. They seemed 
to know that they were beaten. Indeed, I have 
since been told that their sagacity is wonderful. 

Porus was mounted on the largest elephant, and, 
I suppose, the bravest, for it was the last to turn. 
The king had been wounded in several places, and 
was faint with loss of blood. The driver of his 
elephant was afraid that he would fall, and made 
his beast kneel. Just then Alexander came up ; and 
thinking that the king was dead ordered his body to 
be stripped of the arms, which were of very fine work- 
manship, I may tell you. The elephant, when it 
saw this, caught up its master with its trunk, and 
lifted him to its back, and then began to lay about it 
furiously. It was soon killed, but not till it had done a 


313 


FROM THE EAST 


great deal of mischief. King Porus was carried to 
our camp by Alexander’s orders, and attended to by 
the physicians with the greatest care. When he 
was recovered of his wounds, and this it did not take 
him long to do, for these Indians are amazingly 
healthy people, he was brought before the king. I 
was there, and a more splendidly handsome man, 
I never saw. ‘ How would you have me treat you ? * 
asked Alexander. ‘ As a king should treat a king,’ 
was the answer. And so, I hear, it is to be. Porus 
is to be restored to his throne, and a large tract of 
country is to be added to his dominions. 


‘‘ We have had a great festival of Bacchus. The 
god himself was represented riding on a tiger, which, 
by the way, was very well made up. After the 
procession there was a competition in drinking wine. 
What marvellous amounts these Indians drank ! 
One swallowed twenty-three pints and got the prize. 
He lived only four days afterwards. 


“ At last we have turned back. We came to a river 
called the Hyphasis, beyond which, our guide told 
us, there lived Indians bigger and stronger than any 
that we had hitherto seen. All this, as you may 
suppose, fired the king’s fancy, and made him more 
anxious than ever to go on. But the soldiers began 
to murmur. ‘They had gone far enough,’ they 


NEWS FROM THE EAST 


313 


said. * Was there ever to be an end ? Were 
they ever to see their country again ? * Then 
Alexander called the men together, and expounded 
his great scheme. I cannot pretend to give you his 
geography, for I did not understand it. But I 
remember he told us that if we went on far enough 
we should come out somewhere by the Pillars of 
Hercules. His promises were magnificent ; and 
indeed if we were to conquer the world, they could 
not be too big. His speech ended, he asked our 
opinion. Any one that differed from him was to 
express his views freely. This is just what we have 
been learning not to do. In fact, he is less and less 
able to bear free speech. There was a long silence. 
‘ Speak out,’ the king said again and again ; but no 
one rose. At last Coenus, the oldest, you know of 
the generals, came forward. The substance of what 
he said was this : ‘ The more you have done, the 
more bound you are to consider whether you have 
not done enough. How few remain of those who 
set out with you, you know. Let those few enjoy 
the fruits of their toils and dangers. Splendid those 
fruits are ; we were poor, and we are wealthy ; we 
were obscure, and we are famous throughout the 
the world. Let us enjoy our wealth and our honours 
at home. And you, sire, are wanted elsewhere, in 
your own kingdom which you left ten years ago, and 
in Greece which your absence has made unquiet. If 
you wish henceforth to lead a new army, to conquer 


314 NEWS FROM THE EAST 

Carthage and the lands that border on the Ocean, 
you will find volunteers in abundance to follow you, 
all the more easily when they shall see us return to 
enjoy in peace all that you have given us.* The 
king was greatly troubled — that was evident in his 
face — but he said nothing, and dismissed us. The 
next day he called us together again, and briefly said 
that he should carry out his purpose ; we might do 
as we pleased. Then he shut himself up in his tent 
two days. He hoped, I fancy, that the men would 
yield. As there was no sign of any change in their 
feelings, he gave way, but in his own fashion. He 
ordered sacrifice to be offered as usual. The sooth- 
sayer reported that the signs were adverse. Then 
we were called together a third time. The will of 
the gods,*’ he said, ‘‘ seems to favour you, not me. 
Let it be so. We will turn back.* You should have 
heard the shout that the men sent up ! Having 
yielded the king did everything with the best grace, 
behaving as if he were as glad to go back as the rest 
of us.” 

Along with this letter Charidemus received a 
despatch from the king requiring his presence at 
Babylon in a year and a half’s time from the date of 
writing.^ 

' This maybe reckoned to have been midsummer in the year 326 B.c. 
He reached Susa in the winter of 324. But the chronology of the latter 
part of the campaign is uncertain. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

THE END 

Charidemus arrived at Babylon punctually at the 
time appointed, reaching it at a date which may be 
put in our reckoning as early in January, 323. 
Alexander had not arrived, but was on his way from 
Susa. 

A week after his arrival he had the pleasure of 
meeting his Theban friend, who had been sent on in 
advance to superintend the final arrangements for a 
ceremony which occupied most of the king’s thoughts 
at this time, the funeral of Hephaestion. For 
Hephaestion was dead, killed by a fever, not very 
serious in itself, but aggravated by the patient’s folly 
and intemperance, and Alexander was resolved to 
honour him with obsequies more splendid than had 
ever before been bestowed on mortal man. The 
outlay had already reached ten thousand talents, and 
at least two thousand more would have to be spent 
before the whole scheme was carried out. And then 
there were chapels to be built and priesthoods 
endowed, for the oracle of Ammon had declared 


3i6 


THE END 


that the dead man might be lawfully worshipped as 
a hero, though it had forbidden the divine honours 
which it was asked to sanction. 

In April the king reached Babylon. The sooth- 
sayers had warned him not to enter the city. He 
might have heeded their advice but for the advice of 
his counsellor, the Greek sophist Anaxarchus, who 
had permanently secured his favour by his extrava- 
gant flatteries. The priests of Belus,” he 
suggested, ‘‘ have been embezzling the revenues of 
the temple, and they don’t want to have you looking 
into their affairs.” His stay was brief ; the funeral 
preparations were not complete, and he started for a 
voyage of some weeks among the marshes of the 
Euphrates, an expedition which probably did not 
benefit his health. 

In June he returned, and, all being then ready, 
celebrated the funeral of his friend with all the pomp 
and solemnity with which it was possible to surround 
it. The beasts offered in sacrifice were enough to 
furnish ample meals for the whole army. Every 
soldier also received a large allowance of wine. The 
banquet given to the principal officers was one of 
extraordinary magnificence and prolonged even 
beyond what was usual with the king. 

Two or three days afterwards the two friends were 
talking over the disquieting rumours about the king’s 
health which were beginning to circulate through the 
city. They could not fail to remember the curious 


THE END 


317 


prediction which they had heard years before from 
the lips of Arioch, or to compare with it the recent 
warnings of the Babylonian soothsayers. Charondas, 
too, had a strange story to tell of Calanus, an Indian 
sage, who had accompanied the conqueror in his 
return from that country. Weary of life the man 
had deliberately burnt himself on a funeral pile 
raised by his own hands. Before mounting it he had 
bidden farewell to all his friends. The king alone he 
left without any salutation. My friend,” he had 
said, “ I shall soon see you again.” 

When the friends reached their quarters they 
found Philip, the Acarnanian, waiting for them. The 
physician looked pale and anxious. 

“ Is the king ill ? ” they asked with one voice. 
“ Seriously so,” said Philip, if what I hear be 
true.” 

“ And have you prescribed for him ? ” 

He has not called me in ; nor would he see me, 
if I were to present myself. He has ceased to believe 
in physicians ; soothsayers, prophets, quacks of 
every kind, have his confidence. Gladly would I go 
to him, though indeed a physician carries his life in 
his hand, if he seeks to cure our king or his friend. 
Poor Glaucias did his best for Hephaestion. But 
what can be expected when a patient in a fever eats 
a fowl and drinks a gallon of wine ? -®sculapius him- 
self could not have saved his life. And then poor 
Glaucias is crucified because Hephaestion dies. 


3i8 


THE END 


And, mark my words, the king will go the same 
way, unless he changes his manners. What with 
his own folly and the folly of his friends, there is no 
chance for him. You saw what he drank at the 
funeral banquet. Well, he had the sense to feel that 
he had had enough, and was going home, when 
Medius must induce him to sup with him, and he 
drinks as much more. Then comes a day of heavy 
sleep and then another supper, at which, I am told, 
he tried to drain the great cup of Hercules, and fell 
back senseless on his couch. The next morning he 
could not rise ; and to-day, too, he has kept his bed. 
But he saw his generals in the afternoon and talked 
to them about his plans. I understood from Per- 
diccas that he seemed weak, but was as clear in 
mind as ever. And now, my friends, I should recom- 
mend you not to leave Babylon till this matter is 
settled one way or another. If Alexander should 
die — which the gods forbid — there is no knowing 
what may happen ; and there is a proverb which I, 
and I dare say you, have often found to be true, 
that the absent always have the worst of it.'* 

In obedience to this suggestion the two friends 
remained in Babylon, waiting anxiously for the 
development of events. On the second day after the 
conversation with Philip, recorded above, Charidemus 
met the admiral Nearchus,i as he was returning from 

* Nearchus had been in command of the fleet which had taken part 
in Alexander’s operations in the further Easf, and he was now about to 
command it again in the expedition which was about to be made against 
Arabia. 


THE END 


3^9 


an interview with the king. How is he ? ” he 
asked. I can hardly say,” replied the admiral. 

look at him, one would say that things were 
going very badly with him. But his energy is 
enormous. He had a long talk with me about the 
fleet. He knew everything ; he foresaw everything. 
Sometimes his voice was so low that I could hardly 
hear him speak, but he never hesitated for a name or 
a fact. I believe that he knows the crew and the 
armament, and the stores of every ship in the fleet. 
And he seems to count on going. We are to start 
on the day after to-morrow. But it seems impos- 
sible.” 

Three days more passed in the same way. The 
councils of war were still held, and the king showed 
the same lively interest in all preparations, and still 
talked as if he were intending to take a part himself 
in the expedition. Then came a change for the 
worse. It could no longer be doubted that the end 
was near, and the dying man was asked to whom he 
bequeathed his kingdom. “ To the strongest,” he 
answered, and a faint smile played upon his lips as 
he said it. Afterwards an attendant heard him 
muttering to himself, They will give me fine 
funeral games.” ^ The following day the generals 
came as usual ; he knew them, but could not speak. 

' The funeral games would be the wars fought by his successors to 
determine who was the “ strongest,” named as the legatee of his power. 
The prediction was amply fulfilled. 


3^0 


THE END 


And now, human aid being despaired of, a final 
effort was made to get help from other powers. The 
desperately sick were sometimes brought into the 
temple of Serapis, the pleasure of the god having 
been first ascertained by a deputation of friends who 
spent the night in the temple. Accordingly seven 
of the chief officers of the army inquired of the 
deity whether he would that Alexander should be 
brought into the shrine. ‘‘ Let him remain where 
he is,” was the answer given in some mysterious 
way ; and the king was left to die in peace. 

One thing, however, still remained to be done. 
The news of the king’s dangerous illness had spread 
through the army, and the men came thronging in 
tumultuous crowds about the gates of the palace. 
It was, too, impossible to quiet them. They would 
see him ; they would know for themselves how he 
fared ; if he was to be concealed, how could they be 
sure that some foul play was not being practised. 
The murmurs were too loud and angry, and the 
murmurers too powerful to be disregarded with 
impunity. The officers and a certain number of the 
soldiers, selected by their comrades, were to be 
admitted within the gates and into the sick chamber 
itself. It was a strange and pathetic sight. The 
dying king sat propped up with pillows on his couch. 
He had not, indeed, worn and wasted as were his 
features, the aspect of death. The fever had given 
a brilliance to his eyes and a flush to his cheek that 


THE END 


321 


seemed full of life. And he knew his visitors. He 
had a truly royal memory for faces, and there was 
not one among the long lines of veterans, weeping 
most of them with all the abandonment of grief 
which southern nations permit themselves, whom he 
did not recognize. Speak he could not, though now 
and then his lips were seen to move, as though there 
were something that he was eager to say. When 
Charondas passed him he seemed to be specially 
moved. He bent his head slightly — for he could not 
beckon with his hands, long since become powerless 
— as if he would speak with him. The Theban bent 
down and listened intently. He could never after- 
wards feel sure whether he had heard a sound or 
guessed the word from the movements of the lips, 
but he always retained an absolute conviction that 
the king uttered, or at least formed in his breath, the 
word “ Dionysus.” He had walked all his days in 
fear of the anger of the god. Now it had fallen 
upon him to the uttermost. Thebes was avenged by 
Babylon. 

That evening the great conqueror died. 


There was some truth after all in what Arioch 
told us,” said Charidemus to his friend, about a week 
after the death of the king, “ though I have always 
felt sure that the spirit which he pretended to con- 


322 


THE END 


suit was a fraud. But was there not something 
which concerned ourselves ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” replied Charondas, I remember the 
words well. ‘ Happy are they who stand afar off and 
watch.’ And indeed it scarcely needs a soothsayer to 
tell us that.” 

You have heard, I dare say,” said Charidemus, 
of what Alexander was heard to whisper to himself. 

^ They will give me fine funeral games.’ Have you a 
mind to take part in these same games ? ” 

Not I,” replied his friend; ‘‘two or three of the 
big men will win great prizes, I doubt not ; but little 
folk such as you and me will run great risk of being 
tripped up. But what are we to do ? ” 

The Macedonian paused a few moments, “ I have 
thought the matter over many times, and talked it 
over too with my wife, who has, if you will believe 
me, as sound a judgment as any of us. You see that 
standing out of the tumult, as I have been doing for 
the last five years and more, I have had, perhaps, 
better opportunities for seeing the matter on all sides. 
I always felt that if the king died young — and there 
was always too much reason to fear, quite apart from 
the chances of war, that he would — there would be 
a terrible struggle for the succession. No man living, 
I am sure, could take up the burden that he bore. 
Many a year will pass before the world sees another 
Alexander ; but there will be kingdoms to be carved 
out of the empire. That I saw ; and then I put to 


THE END 


323 


myself the question, what I should do. It seemed to 
me that there would be no really safe resting-place 
where a man might enjoy his life in peace and quiet- 
ness in either Macedonia or Greece. I sometimes 
thought that there would be no such place anywhere. 
And then I recollected a delightful spot where I spent 
some of the happiest months of my life, while you 
were with the king in Egypt, that inland sea in the 
country of the Jews. If there is to be a haven of 
rest anywhere, it will be there. What say you ? are 
you willing to leave the world and spend the rest of 
your days there ? ” 

Yes,’' said the Theban, ‘‘ on conditions.” 

And what are these conditions ? ” 

They do not depend upon you, though you may 
possibly help me to obtain them.” 

The conditions, as my readers may guess, were 
the consent of Miriam, the great-grand-daughter of 
Eleazar of Babylon, to share this retirement, and 
the approbation of her kinsfolk. These, not to 
prolong my story now that its main interest is over, 
were obtained without much difficulty. Eleazar was 
dead. Had he been alive, it is likely that he would 
have refused his consent, for he kept with no little 
strictness to the exclusive traditions of his race. 
His grandson and successor was more liberal, or, 
perhaps we should say, more latitudinarian in his 
views. Charondas bore a high reputation as a 
gallant and honourable man ; and he had acquired a 


324 


THE END 


large fortune, as any high officer in Alexander’s 
army could hardly fail to do, if he was gifted with 
ordinary prudence. A bag of jewels which he had 
brought back from India, and which were estimated 
as worth four hundred talents at the least, was one 
of the things, though it is only fair to say, not the 
chief thing that impressed the younger Eleazar in 
his favour. Miriam’s consent had virtually been 
given long before. 

Charidemus and his wife had a painful parting 
with Barsine. She recognized the wisdom of their 
choice ; but she refused to share their retirement. 

I must keep my son,” she said, “ where his father 
placed him. Some day he may be called to succeed 
him, and his subjects must know where to find him.”* 

In the spring of the following year the two house- 


* As this child does not come into my story, a few words may be given 
to describe his fate. The name given to him was Heracles, Heracles 
being the Greek divinity with whom the Tyrian Melkarth was com- 
monly identified. Brought up by his mother in the retirement described 
above, he was mentioned as a possible successor after Alexander’s 
death. The proposition met with no favour at the time, but eleven 
years later his claims were advanced by Polysperchon, one of the 
generals who engaged in the struggle for the fragments of Alexander’s 
empire. He was persuaded to leave his retirement, and, as being the 
only surviving child of the emperor, seemed likely to become an im- 
portant person. Cassander, who had usurped the throne of Macedonia, 
marched against Polysperchon, who had the young prince and his 
mother in his camp, but found his troops unwilling to act against Alex- 
ander’s son. He proceeded to bribe Polysperchon with the offer of the 
government of the Peloponnese, if he would abandon the young man’s 
cause. Polysperchon caused him to be murdered, and Barsin^ with 
him. 


THE END 


325 


holds were happily established in two charming 
dwellings at the southern end of the Lake of Galilee. 
Though the friends never formally adopted the 
Jewish faith, they regarded it with such respect that 
they and their families became ‘‘ Proselytes of the 
gate.’*^ It is needless to tell the story of their after 
lives. Let it suffice to say that these were singularly 
uneventful and singularly happy. 

* The Rabbins distinguish two classes of proselytes, viz.y prosefytes 
of righteousness^ who received circumcision, and bound themselves to 
keep the whole Mosaic law, and to comply with all the requirements of 
Judaism, and proselytes of the gate^ who dwelt among the Jews, and 
although uncircumcised, observed certain specified laws, especially the 
seven precepts of Noah (as the Rabbins called them), ue.y against the 
seven chief sins, idolatry, blasphemy against God, parricide, unchastity, 
theft or plundering, rebellion against rulers, and the use of ‘ flesh with 
the blood thereof.* ** 


END< 



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